Across the Universe
by OCD ADD Goldfish
Summary: In another world where Neville is the Chosen One, and Harry was born Harley Lily Potter, on the night of the Battle of the Tower, Harley sacrifices herself to save her world and ends up, in a completely different reality. How will she adjust? What ripple effects will she create? And what will it mean, for Harry James Potter? AU, Crossing realities. Snape/OC.
1. The Next Great Adventure

**Disclaimer:** World of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. For "The If You Dare Challenge" and "The Harry Potter Chapter Competition". For the Competition each chapter that corresponds to a chapter in the Harry Potter books will have the chapter title from the book underneath the title of the chapter. The word prompts are from "the If You Dare Challenge".

**A/n Relevant to the Story:** This story is going to be AU, as it features a FemHarry (By the name of Harley Lily Potter), crossing realities and finding herself in the "canon" Harry Potter world. However, being as her presence in the canon world isn't supposed to be, the story will become AU.

This story begins in what would be the end of Harley's sixth year. So more or less, it begins in HBP. However, Harley is not the-Girl-Who-Lived in her universe because the prophecy in her universe is the same as the one in the canon universe, and the prophecy spoke of a boy. Therefore, her world is quite different.

This story will be a Snape/OC story.

**Rating for:** Language, possible future limes, references to Wolfstar, and a relationship with significant age difference.

**Prompt:** The End Is Where We Begin (# 912)

* * *

**~x~X~x~**

**Across The Universe**

**~x~X~x~**

* * *

_**The Next Great Adventure **_

_**Or**_

_**The Boy Who Lived**_

Cosmically, it was possible that there was something to the belief that life was a great circle. That death and life, are but one cycle, endlessly repeating.

Harley wasn't sure what she believed to be true about Death. There was clearly something beyond it, because Ghosts were unliving proof of that. But for herself, she wasn't sure what followed in the long yawn between one heartbeat and the lack of one.

Though sixteen going on seventeen, and being a morbid teenager at that, Harley wasn't sure if she believed in heaven or reincarnation or... anything.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy to act before she thought. It was instinct, propelling her to step in the way of the shockingly green spell meant for someone else.

But if she had time to think about it, she probably would have made the same decision, again and again and again.

_His_ life, was so much more important and precious then her own. His life, was the hope of their whole world. And her sacrifice should mean something. At least, she _hoped_.

And with that step, that reckless streak that Snape had warned her would one day get her killed... did. She just hoped that Sirius, who had always encouraged her reckless streak, didn't blame himself. And she hoped Moony didn't blame him.

X

There was light. Bright and disorienting light.

With a groan, moving a hand to shield her eyes, came the sensation of hard and unforgiving stone at her back. And there was someone... she was sure of it, someone was nudging her in the side of her ribs with what she was sure was a boot.

Scowling, Harley sat up, ready to let rip one of Sirius' more colorful slurs. Rubbing her eyes briefly, she then proceeded to glare up at the person who had woken her when she was struck by several things at once.

She was sleeping in what appeared to be a hall, simply laying in the corridor, with her black, rectangular rimmed glasses askew on her face.

And then, with a shock like a ghost moving through you, she found herself looking down at herself. Her hands touching her legs, her arms and even her head, as if to make sure she was still all in one piece.

But... she'd seen the Voldemort! She'd seen him casting the Avada! She's stepped right in the way of that bright green light!

Whipping her head around, her unruly hair flying in all directions with her heart and mind both racing with sudden adrenaline, she found that she was very much in an empty corridor. That all signs of a battle were absent. And furthermore, as she previously noted, it was broad daylight. In point of fact, it wasn't night as she recalled, but rather instead, what appeared to be the hour just past dawn.

And then she stared up at the man that had woken her, her heart giving it's customary flip while her stomach felt like a boulder had been dropped into it.

"Professor Snape," Harley cried, jumping to her feet, the top of her head just falling short of his chin. Briefly, she looked down at herself and frowned as she noted that she was wearing the same clothes of the previous night, blue jeans and her Slytherin Quidditch jersey.

But then... was that just a dream? A nightmare?

But if so, what the hell was she doing sleeping on the floor in the corridor?

And why the hell was Snape staring at her as if he had never seen her before in his life?

"Who are you? And what are you doing, laying about the hallway?" he asked, eyeing her Slytherin jersey and glaring at her with those dissecting eyes.

Harley frowned up at him.

"Professor Snape... it's me. Harley," Harley reminded him, though she felt absurd doing so. This man had taught her for six years. He was her Head of House. She pestered him constantly when she felt lonely!

As he continued to frown at her, his hand clenching around his wand, which she only then realized was in his hand, she wondered what on earth was going on.

Maybe _this_ is a dream, Harley wondered with a sinking feeling.

"I'm... Harley Potter," she said with a frown, feeling anxiety and panic slowly creeping up on her as he continued to scrutinize her. However, at her pronuncement, he suddenly lunged at her and grasped her by the jersey.

"What are you playing at?" he snarled, shaking her.

Though not the first time in this position, for the first time, she felt genuine fear race down her spine. Because this Snape... he had no recognition of her... to him she was not his student and so he had no reason to show restraint.

Harley tried not to shrink in on herself. She attempted to meet his gaze, willing him to believe her. And then she felt it.

It was like her head was splitting open. Images flashed before her eyes.

_They were here, in the corridor. It was night. There were Death Eaters fighting against teachers and members of the DA. She spotted Sirius, and she fought alongside him, while he took on Bellatrix Lestrange. _

_Briefly, her mind flitted to the summer before first year to Sirius nudging her, jokingly telling her that she better not be a Slytherin. And then she was in her fourposter on her first night at Hogwarts, wondering what the hell had possessed her to _chose_ Slytherin house. _

_Moony was then comforting her, she was six and just realized what her parents being dead really meant. Crying for her beautiful mother who she would never know... crying for the father whose unruly hair she inherited and who taught her to love brooms since before she was old enough to walk._

_There she was, in her first fight with Pansy Parkinson because the pug-faced bitch had the nerve to call her an orphan and the daughter of a pair of fairies. She'd punched Pansy in her fury. And then there was Snape, so angry with her. Sneering down at her about her temper and her inability to control it. _

_Then there was the flash of green light, and she stepped into it. _

The broken images suddenly stopped and Snape released her as if she were a hot branding iron in his hand. She dropped to the floor on her arse, her hands barely catching her. Quickly, they rose to her head and she wondered what the hell that had been, though she instinctively knew that Snape had seen everything she had seen.

Through her bludger-through-the-head like headache, Harley managed to glare up at the very pale Snape.

_Arsehole_, she thought at him resentfully, wondering for perhaps the millionth time why her stupid little heart seemed to care for him, of all people.

Before she could say anything, he was once more grabbing her. His hand was a pincer on her upper arm, and he hefted her light weight to her feet before he was dragging her down the corridor.

"What are you doing?!" Harley cried indignantly, trying to yank her arm out of his grip, but the man though very thin, was deceptively strong. And he merely continued to drag her petite form down the hall. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded, though there was a tremor of fear to the question, but Snape kept walking, not responding to her.

It wasn't long before they were standing before the Gargoyle statue. And Harley felt relief wash over her, thinking that soon she would be free of amnesia, psycho-Snape.

X

"Come in," Dumbledore called almost wearily, looking up from his desk just in time to watch Snape drag in a very pale, teenage girl. Dumbledore frowned at what seemed like a very unforgiving grip, staring at Severus for an explanation for his man-handling of a slender girl.

However, given Severus' pale but stormy expression, he said nothing as his office door was slammed shut behind the pair. He merely watched perplexed as Severus continued to drag the struggling girl, who looked equal parts irate and in pain, before his desk. He then shoved her towards Dumbledore's desk.

"Tell him who you claim to be, girl," Severus demanded, his voice cooler than his demeanor.

The girl with jet-black hair glared at Severus, adjusting her black, rectangular-rimmed glasses before turning to Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore! Snape's being a bloody unreasonable psycho!" the girl cried, causing his brows to move up his forehead as she appeared to know him, though he had absolutely no recollection of _her_. Though, something about her seemed familiar to him. She rather reminded him of someone. "What's your problem?! I'm going to have a bruise!" she yelled at Severus, rubbing her arm and glaring at him reproachfully.

"I'm sorry my dear, but I'm afraid I'm rather lost. Do I know you?" Dumbledore asked perplexed, trying to sound welcoming.

The girl then turned towards him and all her anger seemed to evaporate. She seemed to wilt, crumbling in on herself and making her slender form even smaller as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her vibrant, emerald green gaze stared at him sadly from behind the rims of her glasses. And suddenly, he knew who she reminded him of. In that moment, the resemblance was uncanny. It was as if he was looking at an older, and female version of Harry Potter.

"You don't..." she struggled, before taking a deep breath. Distantly, Dumbledore noticed the jersey she wore, and guessed at her age, being something about sixteen. Fifteen at the youngest. "My name is Harley... Harley Lily Potter."

Dumbledore stared at the teenage girl that Severus dragged before him.

"Is it?" he asked, keeping his same serene and grandfatherly demeanor though his gaze sharpened and he looked towards Severus briefly. But he detected no lie in the girl's words, or her face. Turning back to lock eyes with her, he tilted his head. "And how old are you, my dear?"

"I'll be seventeen in July," Harley replied, frowning and still hugging herself.

Dumbledore then performed Legillimens on the girl, wondering if she was, who she claimed to be. Wondering if, like her appearance and name suggested, she was related to James and Lily Potter.

Like a fish in water, he sank into her memories and found in her head, a whole other world. One as real as the one that he knew existed and quickly pulled out of her memories, afraid of the information he found. Because her memories were real, and not fabricated.

Staring at the girl before him with grief, he felt his heart breaking in his chest for what he had seen in her head.

"What year is it, my dear?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harley frowned, but answered nonetheless. "1997."

Beside her, Snape made a strangled noise as he crossed his arms over his chest, but he said nothing. And Dumbledore nodded sadly, in wonder at the magic that somehow brought this girl, seemingly across time and various realities, _here_.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harley looked down. An expression of grief and fear flitted across her face. "I... I jumped in front of the Killing Curse."

Snape stiffened, but again, Dumbledore didn't look away.

"But it must've been a... dream," Harley stated, though she didn't sound convinced, even as she looked up at Dumbledore, begging for him to tell her that it was all that it was.

Dumbledore shook his head gravely. He wished he could tell her that it was just a dream.

"You did a very brave, and selfless thing, my dear," Dumbledore stated gently. "But I believe you died... and you were brought here, by means and for reasons that I cannot fathom."

Harley inhaled sharply, as if sudden realization of what was occurring. Her breathing came shallowly as she stumbled away from his desk, as if believing that by putting distance between herself and Dumbledore, his words might disappear and not be true. But it was the only conclusion he could come to when her memories were all truth.

"I'm dead?" she asked, in a small and high-pitched voice as tears rose in her eyes.

"No... I believe you are very much alive, here," Dumbledore replied. Harley looked at him, still trying to control her breathing, her confusion clear on her face. "Death, to the well organized mind, is but the next great adventure."

Harley struggled, grasping her way into the seat before Dumbledore's desk. Momentarily, she placed her head between her knees as she tried to regain control of herself, and avoid the panic-attack that threatened.

It took her a few minutes, her breathing all the sound that was left in the quiet office, but when she finally looked up, Harley appeared marginally better adjusted.

"So... where am I?" Harley asked, her voice tremulous.

"June 17th, 1992."

Harley blew out a breath. Her mind seemed to take a few moments to adjust to that.

"So... somewhere around here, there is a eleven year old me?" Harley asked.

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a look.

"Not exactly," Dumbledore replied, to which Harley gave him a blank look. "You see Harley, I believe that more than crossing time, you have also crossed realities. And in this reality, you as you are... does not exist because in this reality you were born Harry Potter."

"I... I... what?" Harley asked, her brain unable to compute that. And then, with an unfortunate crack, her head smacked the ground.

Dumbledore cast a glare at Severus who had not moved since he entered, his arms crossed over his chest. "You could have caught her."

"You really believe this?" Severus snapped back, not deigning to respond to his comment. "That this... _girl_," he said, putting all his venom in his words as he pointed a yellow figure at the unconscious teenage girl, "is who she claims to be? That her memories are real and not a fabrication?"

"Severus, you are no novice at Legillemency, you know as well as I, that those memories are not false."

Severus didn't respond, because he didn't believe it. His overly logical mind could not allow him to, in spite of evidence to the contrary.

"She could be a vessel for the Dark Lord. If anyone has the skill to fabricate such intricate and believable memories, it would be him."

"Agreed. But as up until recently, he was residing in Quirrel's body; I think we can with confidence accept that he did not tamper with this girl's memories. Besides that, my instincts tell me that she is who she claims to be, and that she is not a threat," Dumbledore stated, to which Severus had to grudgingly agree. But he couldn't let the suspicion go. "How much did you see?"

Severus detailed every memory he witnessed while Dumbledore sat and contemplated what it all could mean and what bearing it might have on their reality, if any.

"What are we going to do about the girl?" Severus finally asked, interrupting the contemplative silence.

Dumbledore sighed.

"We must keep a close eye on her," he finally said. "Whether or not you believe her memories to be real, _Harley_ believes them to be real. She's sixteen, and alone in our world. We have a responsibility, though she is coming of age in July."

Severus grimaced at this, but nodded his head. Perhaps thinking along the lines of keeping your enemies close.

For a moment, Dumbledore watched Severus contemplatively before nodding his head decisively.

"She will stay in the castle for the summer, and attend her seventh year in September. And I want you personally to keep a close eye on her," Dumbledore started, raising a hand when he saw the rage flit across Severus' face as he opened his mouth to retort. "She's in Slytherin, Severus. Her memories, have her sorted into your house. She is _your_ responsibility."

**TBC...**

* * *

**The Boy Who Lived- **Write about the start of something. Alternatively write about Harry Potter.

**A/n:** So that's the first chapter. Please review. I'm really anxious to hear anyone's thoughts of it. Also if there are any questions, if something is not clear, please ask and I'll be sure to address them.


	2. Unspoken Truths

**Prompt:** New Truths (#911)

_**Truths Unspoken**_

_**Or**_

_**The Vanishing Glass**_

Harley wasn't allowed to leave the dungeons, where she'd woken in a set of rooms that were apparently connected to Snape's. Not _her_ Snape, which would have been less intimidating, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

It didn't really matter, though Harley was curious to see this supposed alternate universe she was dropped into. Where she'd been born a boy, a concept that she simply could not wrap her mind around because she was not a boy... and thinking about herself as a boy, was as alien as thinking of peppers and elephants mating.

So, she spent a lot of time in bed. She spent a lot of time, trying _not_ to think. Spent a lot of time thinking of Sirius and Moony and crying for them.

She'd asked for them... on her first day. And Snape, with a lot of satisfaction, had informed her that Sirius was in Azkaban and that the werewolf was probably dying somewhere a flea-ridden, slow death. And no matter how angry she became or how much she cried, she was not allowed to go searching for either of them, because they wouldn't know her, even if she could look for them. And she cried for that as well.

School was out for summer, and the students gone home for the Holidays, before all her tears had dried up. But she still had trouble eating. Her appetite was as dead as she apparently was, back home. But somehow... this reality was by far worse.

With the students gone and most of the Professor departed, she was allowed to roam the castle. The inhabitants that remained were informed that she was a distant relative of Professor Snape's, who'd been home-schooled but that recent tragedies had caused her to briefly become Snape's ward. She was given the surname Evans, though neither she nor Professor Snape had cared much for it.

Though she could only guess at Snape's reasons, her own were not complicated. She really didn't need anymore reminders of everything she'd ever lost; her mother being amongst the first.

She felt an orphan. She _was _an orphan... in this world. And her counterpart was an orphan too.

Once given free range over the castle, she found herself in the library, reading books on modern history. It was shocking to find that not only was Sirius condemned for betraying her parents and killing muggles, but that _Harry_- her counterpart in this world- was Voldemort's target in the first war. That she... _he _had been orphaned on Halloween night, and that Voldemort had been defeated by a _baby_.

It was so shocking to her that Voldemort would go after a _baby..._ and _fail_ to kill such a small child. She couldn't move... and she remained seated at the table until the skies began to darken.

That's where Snape found her. Because there were so many questions floating around her mind. So many possibilities. So many coincidences that she had to wonder what was so different about this world, and what might be similar.

"He killed my... _them_, on Halloween of 1981," Harley stated with her brow furrowed, ignoring Snape's snide comment about her whereabouts and the time. Turning slowly, she looked at Snape, the only person she could ever talk to when she was at school... because before her fifth year she didn't have any real friends that she considered trustworthy... and because her trust had been so mangled that even the friends she made after were held at a distance. "And he gave... _him_ a scar."

"What of it?" Snape asked stiffly, in a tone she knew was trying too hard to sound disaffected. There was emotion beneath it, but she couldn't decipher whether it was just anger, or if there was something more.

But she didn't have room enough in her mind to try and pick apart Snape's moods, or nuances in body language as she once might have.

Harley furrowed her brow, not sure what she wanted to ask or say first.

_Because how could a fucking baby survive the Killing Curse?_

_How could _Sirius_ betray her parent's whereabouts and get them killed?_

And how could things be so different, but... how could some things be the same?

"My parents died in 1981, on Halloween too," Harley told him in a small voice. She frowned, looking through Snape. "They didn't stay in hiding long after I was born. Because _I_ wasn't what _he_ was looking for. I couldn't be. And then... there was some battle between the Order and _him_ and his Death Eaters... they wanted the Longbottoms... and _he_ needed to break the Order to get to them. My parents were there that night, and he was overwhelmed. Defeated for a time, his body destroyed. But my parents died that night.

"How could they die on the same night in two different realities?" Harley asked, turning to pierce Snape with her eyes. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes as she stared at him. "Why does it have to be them?!"

Snape glared at her then with open loathing, and she forced herself to look away. She couldn't take that look now.

Instead, she stared at the page before her... the same page that she'd been staring at for hours as she tried to will away the tears. Tried to ignore the pain of her constricted throat.

She wanted to think of anything else, and set her mind to the task of distracting herself from all the pain of the two worlds colliding.

And so instead, she wondered about accidental magic... and remembered the first time she consciously remembered performing it.

She was four, the first time she could remember. The first time she knew that she was responsible for the magic, and not anyone else.

Remus and Sirius had taken her to visit her parent's grave. And she'd taken a dandelion, and without conscious thought, had transfigured it into a white, star-gazer lily. Of course, at the time she didn't know what kind of flower she'd turned it into, she'd simply wanted the flower to be white and beautiful like one she'd seen at a flower-shop as she passed through Diagon Alley.

Ignoring the pain in her chest at the memory of her guardians and her dead parents, instead she wondered what Harry's first memory of accidental magic was.

"Where is Harry?" she asked, her thoughts turning, not for the first time, at the eleven year old who was supposed to be her in this world. Though, she had a hard time thinking of him as her... knowing he couldn't be- not simply because he was a boy but because his experiences were so vastly different from her own.

She couldn't help feeling slight concern about who would be looking after the much younger boy. Because if Sirius and Remus were gone... then who was left to look after him?

And what if he was left to an orphanage, like Tracey Davis? Would he be as broken and twisted, as the Irish witch- a girl who was as hard as she was manipulative; as untrusting as she was hurt?

She really didn't want that for a boy, who was born with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"That isn't really your concern," Snape simply retorted.

Harley slowly turned her gaze to the man and looked at him coldly and without concern for her well-being. Suddenly, anger surged through her.

"It _is_ my concern, if he is my counterpart. More-so if he is the hope of this world, since I _died_ for the hope in mine," Harley retorted as she stood, her fists clenching at her sides though her tone remained even. She still couldn't believe that she'd really _died_. "I have a right to know who's looking after him."

"Then perhaps, you should take your questions to Professor Dumbledore," Snape retorted, opening his mouth to continue.

"Fine then, I will!" Harley interrupted, whirling around and marching out of the library, making her way towards Dumbledore's office. Snape didn't try to stop her, though she could feel him stalking her all the way to the Gargoyle. But she slammed the door of the office, content that Snape couldn't follow her all the way.

However, once inside the Headmaster's office, she felt rather sheepish for entering without knocking.

"Harley, what a pleasant surprise to see you," Dumbledore greeted cheerfully while she ignored the heat that sprouted in her cheeks.

"I'm sorry sir," Harley started as she carefully approached the desk. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she added, trying for those small, social niceties she'd picked up form Remus, like the swears she picked up form Sirius.

"Not at all," Dumbledore smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"Well I was just wondering... and Snape said I should ask you, but I was wondering about who's looking after Harry?"

"Ah," Professor Dumbledore replied simply before motioning for her to take a seat. After a moment's hesitation, Professor Dumbledore answered. "He's living with relatives."

"Relatives?" Harley frowned. Because she, herself, did not have any living relatives that she knew of. "What relatives?"

"With his Aunt Petunia and her family," Professor Dumbledore replied.

And at that, Harley recalled, that yes, her mother _did_ have a sister. That as far as she knew, her aunt was alive somewhere and had her own family, but she didn't recall ever meeting her.

"_Face like a horse, that one. And character as ugly as-" _Sirius had told her once, about her Aunt Petunia.

"_No, she wasn't very nice," _Remus had interrupted Sirius with a annoyed glare pointed at Sirius and a sheepish smile for Harley.

"_That's putting it very politely,"_ Sirius had harrumphed. _"She hated magic, and everything to do with it. Mind you, I think she was just jealous."_

Harley frowned even deeper, wondering if the Petunia from this reality was anything like the Petunia from her own.

"And are they... good to him?" she asked hesitantly, unsure if Professor Dumbledore would answer the question truthfully. Because though she knew the man to be kind, knew that he was patient... she also knew that he wasn't as grandfatherly as he portrayed himself to be. Knew that he was more than just a headmaster, and had schemes and plans in his head.

And if Harry was the "Chosen One" of this reality, than surely many of those plans, revolved around him.

"He is safe," Dumbledore replied, which wasn't an answer to her question, Harley was quick to notice. However, she merely nodded her head.

"And what is he like?" she asked with open curiosity, her voice gentle and sweet, like that of a child. The voice she used, when she wanted a teacher to drop their guard.

Dumbledore's kind smile, was her reward, telling her that like so many other's, he'd fallen for the simple act.

"He is a very good boy. Exceedingly kind, and brave with I believe, a great capacity to love," Dumbledore responded and though Harley didn't know Harry, though she didn't think of Harry like another version of herself, she couldn't help smiling at that.

"It's strange, isn't it? How our experiences shape us," Harley commented. She bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "I don't think anyone would think of me as _exceedingly kind_. I think... the only people I've ever been kind to are those who seem to deserve it... or people I care for."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, my dear. After all, your last action was a selfless act of sacrifice, to save a boy you'd been friends with, for only two years," Dumbledore pointed out kindly.

Harley looked away, not sure how to respond to that, her mind wandering to the life she'd left behind... the world that she'd left behind. And she wondered, if her sacrifice had meant anything. She wondered, if her world would be all right. If Sirius and Remus, would be okay.

"Thank you, Professor," she stated, offering the sincerest smile she could offer, feeling very melancholy. She then turned to make her way towards the door, the cogs of her mind now going into overdrive with what little information she'd gleaned and what she should do with it.

**TBC...**

**The Vanishing Glass- **Write about Accidental Magic. Alternatively, write about someone being punished harshly.


	3. House Elf Magic

**Prompt:** Wandering Girls (#914)

_**House Elf Magic**_

_**Or **_

_**The Letters From No One**_

July had crept into the castle walls with it's sweltering heats. The cool stones were barely able to keep the heat at bay.

"How do you find our guest, Harley?" Dumbledore questioned, flipping idly through an issue of Transfiguration Today.

Snape's face contorted into a grimace at the thought of the pretty sixteen-year-old, who he did not trust as far as he could throw.

"She's up to something," he stated with certainty, though he couldn't say why he was so certain. If he was to believe that she and the Potter boy were one and the same, only different ages and genders, then it would have been too easy to see that she was up to something.

But the girl was barely anything like the boy.

Yes, there were times where she did remind him strongly of the boy... her reckless defiance, her impertinence, that temper. Even something about her pale features was vaguely reminiscent of the boy. Though there were times that he would look at her, and he would see more of Lily in those features; perhaps because her features were softer and feminine...

But she was so very different from the boy, and her parents as well.

She could be quiet and withdrawn, as he noted recently. She seemed perfectly content with no company but that of herself and books... so many books...

Perhaps it was that quiet, that made him so suspicious of her (apart of course from her incredible circumstances; though, if she were putting on some act, then she had a great capacity for acting, giving she spent over a week in bed, weeping).

Her quiet was almost too determined, too focused.

And she was so perfectly... _civil_ to him. Respectful even, the very few times that they'd interacted. And Severus almost found himself cursing the fact that she was a Slytherin, because if that were true, than clearly she had picked up a few things from his House while growing up and she wasn't as easy to read as her Gryffindor counterpart (assuming of course that she truly _was_ Potter's counterpart).

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, raising his azure gaze and looking at the Potions Master closely.

Severus didn't elaborate. Because he simply didn't _know_ what the girl could be up to. But she spent far too much time cooped up in the library. It seemed rather unnatural and he wondered at what kind of universe would turn _Potter_ into something akin to Granger- or rather more like Theodore Nott, as she didn't quite seem to flaunt her knowledge like the bushy-haired nightmare.

Severus would have resolved to keep a closer eye on her, but he had better things to do then spend entire days sitting at a table in the library, watching a sixteen-year-old girl. It was stalkerish and seemed more than a little inappropriate. Not to mention, was exceedingly boring. He didn't think there was anything more boring than watching someone else read for hours on end, though he was curious about just what the girl was reading.

Dumbledore sighed. "I must admit, from all I've seen, that Harley is a bit more difficult to handle than Harry. I suppose it can only be expected, as she was raised by Sirius, though I'm surprised Remus did not have a more gentling effect on her."

Severus grimaced at that. He didn't care for either man, nor any universe in which they were left as the guardians of Lily's offspring. It was one of the things that made Severus doubt the veracity of the girl's so called memories. Because how could a child raised by Lupin and that _dog_, become a Slytherin? And why did she not behave as if she were raised by wolves (which she nearly literally was raised by)?

Though, he wasn't surprised that Black would exert greater influence over a child. Lupin had always been spineless, he thought with his utmost contempt.

But considering her circumstance, she was behaving much better than he would expect of any Potter in any universe.

X

Harley spent a lot of time at night, laying in bed, thinking. Wondering what to do about Harry Potter, knowing the right thing to do would be to, at the very least, check up on the young boy. But being a Slytherin meant that she didn't simply rush to do the right thing... usually choosing to do what was reasonable and best for herself first.

Unfortunately, that reckless and defiant streak that Sirius had always nurtured in her, demanded that she do just _that_, against Dumbledore and Snape's directives. And it was more than a little tempting; her curiosity was simply too great.

And so she decided that she _would _try to find Harry, to at least make sure he was in good hands. But first, she needed to figure out _how_ to find him, and when would be her best moment to make a move.

Establishing a routine was essential. Snape couldn't be trailing after her... he had to at least reasonably assume where she would be at all hours and feel that she would not deviate from that routine. And by spending a lot of time in the library, she could study charms, trying her best to find some kind of locator spell, because to ask where Harry lived, would simply raise alarm.

Of course, she could always break into McGonagall's office and try to find the address for students. But that would give her away, if she were caught and she simply didn't want to run that risk if it was unnecessary.

Unfortunately, in weeks, the closest she'd come to finding anything useful was scrying, and a more accurate variation, which required blood. But all attempts had been unsuccessful, almost as if something were keeping Harry hidden... much as Hogwarts was unplottable.

Harley was becoming quite frustrated, until she came into contact with a House Elf, and then a world of possibilities lay open before her. And she didn't think she'd have to worry about doing underage magic (though she doubted she had the _trace_ in this reality), or trying to pin point Harry.

All she had to do, was test her theory. And if it didn't work, then she would simply slip back into the castle and return to her research before making another attempt.

With a week to go before her birthday, she decided that after lunch, she would make a trip to Hogsmeade, not wanting to try anything within the castle walls.

After eating lunch, instead of making her way back to the library, Harley made her way through the corridors, careful to not draw attention to herself. It wan't long until she stood before the statue of the one-eyed witch.

"_Dissendium_," Harley whispered, hoping that the passage that her godfather had told her about, was the same as the one in her own world.

She smiled with relief when she noticed the statue move and quickly crept into the tunnel.

Once inside, she changed into her animagus form (which she'd only finally managed during the winter holidays during her sixth yea).

She felt better slinking around passages in her animagus form and since she didn't have the invisibility cloak, it was much easier getting around unseen due to the small size of her her animal form.

On four paws, her slender figure slinked through the dark at a cantering pace. It wasn't long before she was coming out the other end of the long tunnel, in Honeyduke's cellar. Climbing the stairs quickly, she pushed through the door, which was luckily not fully shut and streaked out into the little shop, mindful of not getting her fluffy tail caught in the shutting door.

Quickly casting a look about herself, she returned to her normal form and snuck leisurely out the shop and into Hogsmeade's main street.

As Harley walked around the wizarding village, her eyes taking in all the shops and seeing that nothing was different about the village, she soon sidled into an alley.

Casting a quick look around herself, she crossed her fingers, hoping that she wasn't completely off about the limits of House Elf magic.

"Kreacher? Come," Harley called in questioning commands. Her eyes widened when with a crack, the old elf appeared before her, looking both suspicious and bewildered. "Oh Kreacher!" Harley said with a pitying look as she saw the state of the old House Elf.

"Why does the half-breed call to Keacher? And why does Kreacher answer like to mistress?" the old House elf muttered to itself after taking a sniff and turning his nose in disgust: he proceeded to stare at Harley with it's large, and somewhat misty eyes, both bewildered, disgusted and perhaps... relieved.

Harley frowned. In her own world, sometimes Kreacher slipped up and called her 'half-breed mistress' (much to Sirius' displeasure), but he didn't quite mutter to himself in this fashion.

And then she recalled... with Sirius in Azkaban and his parents presumably as dead as they'd ever been in her own world... that Kreacher might have been living alone in Grimmauld, all this time.

She couldn't fathom how maddening that might be, considering what Grimmauld might be like. The dark House... there had been nothing either Sirius or Remus could do about removing those awful, screaming paintings... or the heads of House-elves that lined the stairs.

However, Harley didn't have time to ponder that, or why Kreacher must answer to her, though he did not know her. Nor did she allow herself to linger on pity for the Elf who'd earned her affection in spite of the insults he couldn't help addressing her with.

House Elf magic was very mysterious, and Harley was not going to look a gift Griffin in the mouth... or however that saying went. And in a way, it was comforting to know that Kreacher felt a compulsion to respond to her, because she knew then, that she could earn his affection and loyalty... and that she truly wouldn't be alone in this world.

"Kreacher, I need you to take me me to the," Harley hesitated before going on, wondering how to phrase the request. "To the home of a woman named Petunia Dursley. But no one must see us. Can you do that?"

Kreacher didn't respond, merely choosing to scowl up at her before reaching a long, gnarled hand towards her, taking her tiny wrist in his hand, and then they were gone with a pop.

X

Severus was furious as he marched his way from the library to the second floor.

He swore, every swear in his head until he finally reached the Gargoyle, only growing angrier by the second as he raced up the spiraling staircase.

"She's gone!" he cried as he burst into the room.

Dumbledore looked up, his face turning form puzzled to weary. "Do you mean Harley?"

"Of course I mean the bloody girl! She's missing! She's not in the library nor any of her usual haunts, I've searched everywhere!"

Dumbledore didn't say anything. Instead the old wizard chose to stand, calling to the House Elf Wispy and ordering her and all the House-elves to conduct a thorough search of the castle and the grounds for Harley.

In the minutes that it took the hundreds of Hogwarts House Elves to search the entirety of Hogwarts and it's grounds, Severus continued to stew.

He _knew_ the girl was gone. This had been what the bloody girl had been up to. And surely, a protege of that imbecile Black and his partner, Lupin, she knew many ways out of the castle.

But where the hell could she have gone? Surely she wasn't so stupid as to go looking for Black in Azkaban, though perhaps she'd gone in search of the werewolf. Or perhaps...

"Wes cannot find the girl," Wispy reported, popping in while twisting her ear in disappointment that they'd been unable to complete the task. "She't not being anywheres in the castle, or grounds."

"Thank you Wispy, that will be all."

"See," Severus hissed through his teeth.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Dumbledore asked wearily, falling into the seat behind his desk. And Severus felt a strange desire to throttle the at times, too passive man. Severus found himself wondering if with his age, if Dumbledore was starting to entropy in the comfort of his Headmaster's seat.

"I couldn't begin to fathom. But the only things she's shown interest is in the two mutts... and Potter," Severus responded with venom, hoping that the girl was not up to anything more nefarious... but what would have been the point? She hadn't learned anything of any use for Voldemort, if she were an agent of his will, could she?

Dumbledore shook his head. "It would be impossible to find Harry."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Snape spat in ill temper.

"Check her parents burial site. If she's not there... perhaps the Longbottoms, she seemed to be connected to them. But search Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley first," Dumbledore directed as he got to his feet.

"What are you going to do?" Severus called, not delighting in paying a visit to any of the suggested places. But wherever Dumbledore planned to go, he did not say as he suddenly took off with Fawkes.

"Bloody typical," Severus muttered, turning on his heel. He had places to search after all, no matter how annoyed he was.

**TBC...**

**Letters From No One- **Write about someone receiving a letter. Alternatively, write about someone running away.

**A/n:** Remember to review. Reviews are what make me feel guilty about not updating a story, and therefore help to keep me motivated.


	4. Privet Drive

**Prompt:** Lost Boys (#913)

_**About Orphans **_

_**or **_

_**The Keeper of the Keys**_

In retrospect, Harley had a lonely, but mostly content childhood.

She was lucky, as far as orphans went, to be granted guardians right from the start whom loved her. But like all parentless children, whether conscious or subconscious, she grappled with fears of being unworthy of the care and love that she was given; wary that one day, she might do something wrong for which she might be abandoned.

Her companions, for the most part, had been books, Remus, Sirius and Kreacher.

It was rare for Harley in her early years, to come in contact with anyone her own age. When she did, she regarded other children with wariness, sensing that she was alien to these other creatures in some fundamental way.

The feeling had been mutual.

She wasn't sure why, but other children chose to exclude her from their games. Harley had often wondered, what it was about her that other kids rejected almost instinctively. She wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with her, and if the other kids could smell it or something.

"_Do I smell Moony?"_ Harley asked after her eight birthday. Remus and Sirius had thrown Harley a birthday party, and there had been more children there then Harley had ever seen at once, present at her party. And yet, in spite of being the birthday girl, none of the other children wanted to play with her, even though she'd smiled and been perfectly polite.

"_What do mean, sweetheart?" Moony asked, picking her up._

_Harley shrugged her little shoulders, pulling at the pink ribbon of her party dress and frowning at it. She really wished that they had gotten her the dress with the green ribbon, but that pushy lady at the shop had insisted that Moony get the pink one. _

"_I thought maybe, you could smell something- you have such a great nose- if something were wrong with me," Harley attempted to explain. After all, didn't cats and dogs kick out members of the litter if they smelled something wrong about them? And Moony turned into a wolf, so maybe..._

"_Why do you think there is something wrong with you?" Remus asked with concern, his voice as soft as her favorite blanket and she let her arms wrap around his neck, holding him a little tighter. _

"_The other kids, I don't think they like me. Other kids never want to play with me. Like I'm a broken toy, or something," Harley said with a shrug of her shoulders, still not looking up to meet Remus' eyes. _

"_Oh Princess," Moony responded, hugging her close. Harley merely melted into the embrace, feeling her eyes wet and her throat hurting for some reason. "Of course not. There is nothing wrong with you, you're perfect."_

As Harley sat waiting in the shadows of a bush in her animagus form, she found herself thinking of that birthday so long ago.

It wasn't until she was about eleven, that Harley understood what was so fundamentally different about her; what had alienated her from other children when she was younger.

She was parentless and for the most part, peerless, in her formative years. It made of her someone intensely independent and guarded, even without her conscious intention.

She was a far too different breed of child, to fit in with other children, and there was something about her quiet that intimidated the other children. To them, she was incomprehensible.

Harley wondered as she sat waiting and watching in the manicured garden after a bemused and grudging Kreacher had been dismissed, if Harry ever felt that way. Wondered if even before he knew he was the-boy-who-lived, he'd felt _that_ isolated and lonely.

It didn't take her long after arriving in Number Four Privet Drive, before she spotted her bespectacled counterpart.

If her furry little face would allow it, she would have frowned at the skinny blonde woman who opened the doors to the back garden. The woman (Petunia, Harley guessed) was speaking in bossy and unkind tones to, what Harley could only assume, was her male counterpart from this world.

Harry Potter.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," the boy had obliged to the, in Harley's opinion, hefty gardening chores he was tasked with.

Though Harley had never been required to do chores at home- being as she was rather spoiled that way by Sirius and Kreacher- she didn't think the amount given to to Harry was either normal, or even fair. She was further concerned by the boy's tone of resignation and defeat. It was altogether as heart-breaking as alarming.

How could this subservient little boy, who looked far too small and skinny for his age, ever stand up to Voldemort? Because she knew that Voldemort couldn't be gone, given how paranoid Snape was.

For a while, Harley wondered if she was simply watching the wrong boy, but as he came closer and got to work, she became convinced that this little boy was indeed Harry Potter. The dark, unruly hair, those verdant, green eyes and the lightning bolt scar were dead giveaways.

With concern she noted the, at _least_, four times too large clothes and wondered if they were what made his frame seem so alarmingly small. But upon studying the pale and skinny arms, and the peaky little face, Harley felt something like a boulder settle in her stomach.

'I don't think even I was _that_ small,' Harley thought to herself.

As she slunk quietly about, mindful of remaining unnoticed, she watched as a superbly rotund boy came out to pick on Harry.

Harley felt some of her concern alleviate when Harry stood up for himself, but she noticed sadly that even that was done with cautious restraint. She hazarded a guess, given his treatment by whom she presumed was his aunt, that this was because the fat boy was overly favored.

Harley felt rage warring with concern and empathy as she continued to watch the progress of the day.

She knew this was no fit home for Harry Potter when he was denied access to the kitchen for a glass of water by his aunt.

"I won't have you traipsing across my clean kitchen in those muddy shoes. Drink from the hose," the blonde woman had responded nastily.

'The days is bloody _hot_, how could she deny him a drink of water after forcing him to work during the hottest point in the day in the garden?!' Harley wondered furiously.

As Harley watched with identical eyes to the small boy, she felt her heart got out to him. The small boy already had the world on his shoulders, even if he didn't know that. And though she knew nothing more of his life, he didn't have Remus and Sirius there to support him.

Perhaps that was why she suddenly felt as if she felt she had to do something for Harry. Felt the need to protect him.

After all, if she was willing to die for Neville Longbottom, whom she'd only been friends with for about two years, then she _had_ to do something for _this_ little boy. This little lost boy.

It wasn't that they were supposed to be the same person, because nothing illustrated how different they were, then watching him toil. And it wasn't simply that they were both orphans whose parents were murdered.

There was simply something about Harry Potter, a kind of innocence and love that his experiences hadn't tarnished, that she felt she must preserve; that she felt responsible for protecting. It lived in her veins and thrummed through her being and she wondered if perhaps _this_ was why she'd been brought here, across the universe as it were.

X

Harry turned towards the bushes at the sounds of rustling. Dropping the hose and wiping his mouth, he tensed and stared into the bushes.

Though there were times his skin had prickled as if he were being watched, he's pushed that aside. He was at Privet Drive after all, who could be watching him except the nosy neighbors?

However, when a red fox sauntered out of the bushes, looking about curiously, he allowed himself to relax. Though, it was rather odd for there to be a fox in Privet Drive and Harry felt puzzled as he watched it.

"Hello," Harry said, to the furry little vulpine, moving to sit himself. He still felt hot and exhausted after the last two hours spent under the hot sun. "What are you doing here?"

The fox merely regarded him for a single moment before turning away. Harry felt his eyebrows twitch in confusion as he watched the furry little animal do a circuit around the garden, twisting it's head this way and that, as it if were looking for something.

"But that's silly, it's just a fox. It's probably just looking for food," Harry contemplated as he continued to watch the fox, who then trotted over, closer to him.

Harry tensed as the fox came near, wondering if it might attack him. He blinked when it sat before him on it's haunches and raised a pair of emerald eyes to meet his.

He almost gaped and fell back at the sight of those _too_ intelligent, green orbs. He really did fall over when before his very eyes, the fox transformed into a smiling, teenage girl.

"Hello," she greeted in soft, friendly tones, stifling her laughter as Harry hurried to right himself.

"I'm going crazy, if I'm talking to a fox who can turn into a girl," Harry thought aloud once more.

"I'd say speaking to yourself is another sign of lunacy," the girl teased in easy tones, "But then I'd be arguing against my existence. And I'm really here, so in this one instance, you're not going crazy."

Harry blinked, unable to wrap his mind around most of what she said.

"I'm Harley... Evans," the dark-haired girl said, outstretching her hand to him in greeting. Harry was too stunned to notice the slight hesitance before she said her last name.

Automatically, Harry outstretched his hand to shake with hers. It at least would prove that this was really happening and he hadn't fainted because of the heat while working on the yard. It might have struck someone like Hermione as a dangerous thing to do, to speak to stranger under such strange circumstance, but Harry didn't really think of it, merely taking the teenage girl at face value.

"You're real," Harry said, his voice slightly higher in pitch in his surprise, noting how his hand really did make contact with flesh and bone. "You're a witch?" he then asked, lowering his voice at the taboo word and looking at her critically for the first time.

She was dressed very muggle, in blue jeans and a fitted t-shirt. But as he stared at her owlishly, he took notice of a few things he hadn't been able to focus on before in his astonishment.

She was slender, but taller than him by at least a foot. She had dark and unruly hair, and green eyes that were hidden by black, square-rimmed glasses that obscured her face. Her features somewhat reminded him of... well _him_.

Blinking in confusion at the girl who appeared like magic before him, he wondered what was going on. And why did she look like him?

"Of course," Harley replied easily to his question, sitting cross-legged before him and seeming to be completely at ease. "Although, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about my animagus form... I could get into a lot of trouble if the wrong person were to find out about that, seeing as I'm unregistered."

Harry found himself nodding, feeling something in his chest sprouting at being given a secret to protect.

"Not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?" Harry asked, shifting a little uncomfortably under her watchful gaze. He could feel his skin heating up at the collar as he realized his state. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if she had been watching for a while, and if so, _what_ she had seen. "Were you watching me?"

"I did... a bit," Harley replied cautiously, causing Harry to flush scarlet. "Your... aunt and cousin? They suck, huh?"

Harry looked away, hoping this stranger was not looking at him with pity and feeling a little humiliated. But before he could respond or wallow in his embarrassment, the strange girl continued to speak.

"I came looking for you, Harry."

Harry snapped his attention back to the teenage girl, thinking briefly that she looked like she was about Percy's age.

"How did you-" he started to asked, before her gazed look at his scar pointedly, as if to say, _who doesn't know you on sight? _Harry frowned at the reminder that in the wizarding world, he was famous. "Why?" Harry asked with a frown.

Harley took a deep breath before responding. "Because I think... you're the closes thing I have to family anymore, and I want to get to know _you_. Harry."

Harry blinked owlishly, unable to believe his ears... feeling his heart beating hard in his chest, hope fluttering inside it wildly

'Family? Wizarding family?' Harry wondered in a daze. Something different from the Dusley's seemed more than he could dare to hope for. No matter how often he dreamt about being taken away from his relatives as a child.

"Distantly, I think. On... your dad's side," Harley replied slowly.

Harry's eyes flickered over her features and, he could see the resemblance. And though it sounded too good to be true, he believed Harley, because he could feel a connection between them- something that made him trust her.

He didn't think anything of the fact that her eyes were green and so like his own... after all, green eyes weren't _that_ rare. Surely there could be members in the Potter family that had green eyes too.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Harry scooted closer, forgetting all about where he was. However, before his excitement could run away with him, he felt it dampened as he recalled what she said. And as he took in her slightly smiling expression he noticed too that she seemed sad.

"Oh," he said with comprehension, feeling as if his stomach meager contents were scrambled eggs. The words 'distant' and 'only family' were blazing before his mind's eye like bright neon signs. "You parents?"

"They died when I was very little. I was brought up by my... godparents, but they're-" Harry felt very bad for asking as he noted the tears that made her eyes shine and the way her voice seemed tight with emotion. "Gone now," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry apologized for asking, thinking it must've been very recent.

"It's okay... it's still a bit hard to believe that they're gone," Harley said after taking a few deep breaths. She flsahed him a reassuring smile which Harry reciprocated, though he didn't understand why she was smiling and he still felt awful for making her remember what she'd just lost. Thought he felt curious, he couldn't bring himself to ask what happened to her "family". He didn't want to further upset her, not pry.

"So who... where..." Harry started, but he didn't know how to ask. His face contorted in consternation.

Unfortunately, before he could aske Harry was brought back to the present by Dudley.

"Who's that? What is she doing here? _Oooh_, I'm going to tell mummy you're letting strange girls into the garden and slacking off!" Dudley's voice startled them, rising in pitch with malice as Harry and Harley jumped to their feet and whirled around.

"Shit," Harley cursed, drawing Harry's surprised gaze while Dudley disappeared back inside. They could still hear his shouts from where they stood and Harry could see Harley wincing. "That's going to get you into trouble, isn't it?"

"Probably. Especially if Aunt Petunia finds out you're a witch. The Dusley's hate everything that's magic," Harry replied, noticing then that the top of his head fell just to Harley's chin.

Harley frowned before turning to fix Harry with a stern but worried look. "They don't... hurt you, do they Harry?"

Harry looked away and shrugged, feeling heat again, licking at his collar.

"Not really," He replied, though he chewed on his lip. He didn't want to lie to Harley, but he felt that if he admitted to anything, that it would be blow out of proportion. But as he felt her gaze remain on him, he felt the need to elaborate, knowing she must be coming to her own conclusions with his response. "I mean, Dudley picks on me and never gets in trouble for it. And Uncle Vernon sometimes cuffs me on the head. But mostly they just lock me in my cupboard, I mean room. And sometimes I'm not allowed to eat if I've said the 'M' word or -"

Harry's explanation was cut short as Aunt Petunia came out looking angry, but also trying to rein it in before unknown witnesses. Dudley, for his part, was looking like the smug pig he was- trailing behind his mother's skirts. Though, his rotund figure eclipse his mother's much slighter frame.

X

Harley turned away from Harry and tried to rein in her impulse to reach for her wand. The overwhelming concern and empathy she felt for Harry's situation, made her feel quite furious at his so-called guardians.

From all her observations, and from the things that Harry said and refused to say- by his matter-of-fact manner towards his "home-life" Harley had a clear picture. And the Dusley's were NOT good people, and there were completely unfit guardians for Harry.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?" Petunia Dusley questioned, stopping several feet away. Her tone of voice was not raised too loud, but had a snotty, unwelcome and rude tone.

But Harley didn't care about that. She was trying to figure out what her next move should be. While a great part of her wanted to lash out, Harley ignored those impulses, knowing they would be the wrong choice for their repercussions towards Harry, who she was unsure she could do anything for. Anger was rarely the answer, and in this case, she had to think what was best for Harry.

Unconsciously, Harley reached out a hand and tucked Harry slightly behind her taller figure.

She wanted to take Harry away from this awful place, but that would be kidnapping, even if his relatives didn't want him. Besides, she had no money and nowhere to take Harry. And she was sure she was already in big trouble, not simply for leaving the castle without permission but for seeking out Harry. Not to mention, introducing herself to him.

Which she still wasn't certain why she had done that.

She'd felt terrible, for the lie she had to tell him, but the truth was too complicated, and it was likely he wouldn't believe her if she told it. Lying to him, telling him he was distantly related on the Potter side of his family, seemed the best compromise considering she was _supposed_ to be a distant relative to Snape.

All purebloods were interrelated after all, and she was quite sure _her_ Snape had mentioned to her that his mother was a pureblood. Of course, she was working on the assumption that _that_ hadn't changed in this world.

"My name is Harley, I go to school with Harry and I've come to check up on him, to see how he is doing," Harley replied loudly and in confident tones.

She could see the moment the intimidation worked. Both sets of eyes turned wide. The fat tub of lard tried to hide behind his rail thin mother as he started to shiver in fear.

"Mummy, make her go away," Dudley demanded, his hands moving to cover his too large arse.

"I demand you leave my house," Petunia almost shrieked, her face equal parts pale and red. It made very clear, the fear and anger warring within her.

"I'm not in your house, and I'm not sure if that is the proper tone to strike," Harley replied sardonically, her words dripping like icicles as she glared at the blondes. "But then again, I'm not surprised cordiality would be lost on an uncivil person, such as yourself."

"Uncivil?" Petunia questioned indignantly.

"Well, how else do you call a person such as yourself, who would deny a child food? Inhumane? Unconscionable? Cruel? Of course there are far more colorful terms-"

"That's quite enough Harley."

Harley froze at the sound of those grave and disappointed tones, recognizing that aged voice.

Whatever Petunia Dursley was going to shriek in retort, died in the form of al high-pitched squeal of alarm in her throat. Her eyes grew comically large and her mouth dropped open and would have allowed a stray bee to fly inside, if she had not covered it by a long, thin hand.

Harry whirled around, "Professor?" he asked in shocked tones. Harley too turned slowly to regard the Headmaster, feeling both guilty and annoyed that she'd been unable to finish with Petunia Dursley- the aunt she never met in her own world, but was glad for it if she was anything like this woman.

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurted at the same time as his aunt, though his tone was far more respectful, and calm, despite his astonishment and curiosity.

"I've come to collect, Harley," Dumbledore stated, turning to give Harley a pointed look which she knew meant, _We are going to talk_.

Harley should have been worried about the censure she was sure to receive, and her already precarious position in this world, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her righteous anger and her rebellious gene empowered her and gave her the courage to cross her arms and give Dumbledore an equally severely look that said, _OH yeah, we're definitely going to talk, old man_.

**TBC...**

**The Keeper of the Keys**- Write about someone remembering something from their childhood. Alternatively, write about Hagrid.


	5. Shopping With Snape

**Prompt:** Teasing (#900)

_**Shopping With Snape**_

_**or **_

_**Diagon Alley**_

Much to Harley's chagrin, it had been decided that come September, she would be joining the fifth year instead of the seventh year class. This was due to the fact that in this world there were no records of her having existed, much less taken her OWLs, and because the Ministry could only provide the necessary materials and exam proctors during June. Of course, the former had been taken care of easily by Professor Dumbledore, as for the latter, there was nothing to be done, apparently.

Harley found it rather obnoxious that creating and fabricating a fake identity for her, as Harley Lily Evans, born in July of 1975, was an easily manageable feat whereas placing her in the correct year was somehow impossible.

However, as this had all been decided within her first week in this strange new world, Harley hadn't had the mental capacity to care. But as September drew nearer, and Harley became more adapted to her circumstance, she felt somewhat embarrassed to be seventeen and having to do her fifth, and sixth year all over again.

Not that Harley was in a good mood as August crawled in at a glacial pace.

From the moment she'd returned to the castle and after the fabulous argument she'd gotten in with Dumbledore (which involved much more arguing on her part than Dumbledore's, not to mention far more frustration), and the excoriating, verbal lashing she received from Snape, Harley had been grounded. Which, when under Snape's supervision, meant that she was not allowed to leave her rooms in the dungeons for anything except for meals in the Great Hall and Harley felt that was simply because Snape couldn't allow her to wither away form lack of sunlight. Otherwise she'd probably have to take her meals in the bowels of the castle as well.

She'd been going absolutely mad, with nothing much to do in the dungeons that she'd even taken to reading Snape's Potions journals and books... as they were the only kind of reading material he allowed her anywhere near. Well that, and working on the homework the fourth years had been assigned during the summer, for which Snape had gotten her the necessary books from the library.

Harley had half a mind to simply use her animagus form to sneak out, but the risk of getting caught was simply too high to be worth it. After all, the only way to exit her room, was through the sitting room it connected to, in which Snape was always perched, as if waiting for her to try to make a break for it.

It was miserable, really.

Harley wasn't even allowed to go to the Owlery, for fear that she might contact Harry. Although, Harley didn't know why she wasn't allowed to do so... after all, she hadn't told Harry the truth about who she was, and Dumbledore knew that and knew why she'd made that decision. So what could she tell Harry that they should be so worried about?

She felt a hollow ache in her chest, every time she thought about Harry, and the fact that he was stuck at Privet Drive.

"_But they're horrible people! How can you leave him with them?" _Harley had shouted at Dumbledore during their discussion in his office when they'd returned to the school. She'd been outraged with the Headmaster's incomprehensibly lacking compassion. He seemed to her, far more concerned about how she'd managed to get to Harry, than about Harry himself.

Not that she felt like telling him how she'd found him, and so she hadn't- choosing to spitefully keep that to herself.

"_Because he must," _Dumbledore had responded with a weary sigh.

"_Because he must?! That's all you have to say?! NO, that is unacceptable!"_ Harley had shouted, hands balled into fists and her face red with rage and frustration.

"_Harley, there are things at work, that you simply don't understand... things that, if the wrong people knew, could be dire for Harry,"_ Dumbledore said in grave but placating tones. _"But he stays with his relatives, because he must. Because it is the greatest protection that he could have."_

Harley had remained silent after that, but her rage still simmered beneath the surface. There was no point continuing the argument. She knew that there was no winning, and being an underage, and penniless orphan, she had no power to change the circumstance.

Yet.

X

"Here," Snape told her sourly, in the first week of August, handing her an envelope.

Harley took it from his hand as she walked around the sofa and sat down on the black chesterfield, not looking over at Snape where he was perched on his armchair.

He was being a bigger, cruel git then was even usual for _him_, but Harley was well-practiced at letting Snape-insults slide off her like water over a fish.

She was still half asleep, though if she had to guess the time, it was very near to noon. Being bored out of her mind as she was, sleeping-in seemed the best way to deal with these pesky, grounded days of summer.

Upon noticing the Hogwarts seal, Harley perked up in anticipation of her materials, which quickly melted as she noticed the list of books she would have to get.

"Oh bloody fucking Salazar," Harley muttered as she stared at the list of books and spotted one god-forsaken name listed repeatedly.

"Excuse me?" Snape hissed. If Harley had cared, she would have noticed that he sounded a mixture of incredulous and indignant, but she was far too absorbed in what her eyes were seeing and willing it not to be so.

"Fucking Lockhart," Harley groaned as she fell back into the back of the couch and sank down, closing her eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to have to put up with him as a teacher all over again, fucking twat that he is."

Harley almost wanted to ask Snape to tell her it wasn't so, or that Lockhart wasn't quite the vainglorious, incompetent idiot he'd been in _her_ world. However, she guessed by the titles of the books, which were the exact same in her own world, that it was all too true and that Lockhart was not in anyway different.

"You've met him?" Snape asked, and she could just hear the way his tongue had sucked against his teeth in distaste. However, his tone and words were less cruel and severe then they'd been since her escape. She imagined that his sense of curiosity was easing his tone, and making him momentarily forget that he was ravingly furious at her.

"He was my Defense Professor in second year too, I can't believe I forgot about that," Harley replied, sitting up and glaring at the letter still in her hands. "Although if I had, I would have hoped that this world would be different in _that_."

Silence reigned between them before Harley broke it once more, now turning to look at Snape who looked contemplative though skeptical.

"How am I supposed to get any of this stuff?" Harley asked, motioning to the letter.

"I will be taking you to Diagon Alley to fetch them," Snape replied, though his face looked like he'd rather be eviscerating toads then having to do any such thing.

Harley was tempted to smirk, but that had not been what she'd actually been asking and was rather still concerned about how she was supposed to afford any of what she needed, not the least of which would be robes, writing materials, potions supplies etc.

As it was, she was forced into wearing the same items of clothing on a very short rotation, having been given clothes that were left in the lost and found. Luckily, Harley excelled at Transfiguration and had been able to do something with the odds and ends that she'd been left by the House Elves. She'd even gotten a canvas backpack that had an extension and feather-light charm that she fully intended on keeping.

Though, she couldn't do much about her lack of underwear, so she usually had to go without. Going commando certainly took some getting used to, and Harley still wasn't that fond of it.

"I meant, how am I supposed to pay for this? I don't have a knut to my name."

"Hogwarts provides a stipend for supplies for orphan students," Snape replied coolly and callously. However, Harley didn't take offense, and merely recalled Tracey once confiding in Harley that she had to get her materials on an allowance, which Snape was kind enough to supplement so that she wouldn't be humiliated by other Slytherins for the state of her second-hand uniform and materials.

Harley merely nodded as she turned back to her list and frowned. She recalled how expensive her books were in second year, all because of Lockhart and she wondered how the stipend from Hogwarts would be able to afford it. Especially when she had to get robes and uniforms as well.

"So when are we going?" Harley asked, as she didn't see the point on dwelling on it before she knew the prices.

"As soon as you're ready," Snape responded, though he sounded anything but thrilled.

Harley grinned, bouncing up from the couch, excited that she'd be able to get out of the castle.

"Be right back!" she exclaimed, running into the next room for her backpack.

X

They immediately flooed to Diagon Alley.

The first place they'd been to, not to Harley's surprise, was of course to the Apothercary where Snape very quickly and efficiently purchased all that she would need, before telling the clerk to owl everything to the castle. The clerk, who seemed quite used to Snape, had nonetheless been unable to help staring Harley, trying to work out why Snape was with one of his older students without saying a word.

Snape didn't bother purchasing a cauldron or other Potion's materials she may need like a Potions book, telling her that he would give her materials from his classroom that she could use for the year.

After, they'd gone to the used books store where they were able to purchase Harley's Transfiguration, History, Charms, Herbology and Ancient Runes text (all of which Snape anally inspected before purchasing).

"You know, it's really pointless getting all these books. I only ever use them for homework, and I could always borrow them from the library or someone for that," Harley had commented as Snape paid at the till, seemingly not trusting her with money which she would have been offended at, except that it at least meant she wasn't weighed down with a bag full of coins.

In response, Snape glared at her before turning that disapproving glare at the bookstore clerk who was also nervously eyeing the pair.

"Send that to Hogwarts," Snape said in cold and imperious tones, glaring at the youth to keep him from commenting on the fact that Snape was there with a teenage girl.

Even in Diagon Alley, Snape was a well-known man, and even greatly feared. At least by the youths in their early-twenties that worked at the shops, who'd once had him as a Professor.

"Where to next?" Harley asked when they stepped back into the Alley, which was not as full as the other times she'd been to the Alley in her life. Though, Harley guessed that might be because Hogwarts letters were only barely starting to be sent out, and she'd in fact gotten hers before anyone else had gotten their own.

"Flourish and Blotts, for the rest of your books," Snape replied through tight lips, marching in quick strides to their next destination. Harley nearly had to skip to keep up, but she didn't mind, as she was quite full of pent up energy.

They didn't spend too much time at Flourish and Blotts, only getting her necessary books for Divination and Defense before heading back to the Alley, again free of any parcels.

'Must be great to be a Hogwarts Professor, and just get everything delivered instead of having to tote everything you buy around the Alley,' Harley thought. Though, Remus never had much trouble either, or Sirius, as they usually shrank everything and just stuffed it into their pockets.

"Oh... I'm going to need a trunk," Harley suddenly recalled. Snape shook his head.

"I've allocated one for you already, didn't you see it behind the couch?" Snape asked, sounding rather annoyed as he shot a look at her that was quite chastising; as if he couldn't believe she would be so unobservant. Harley shook her head before shrugging.

"Then all that's left is my uniform and writing materials. Oh, and I'll probably need a telescope for Astronomy," she replied.

Snape nodded, motioning to the magical instruments shop, which was directly across form them. They weren't long in the shop before the were once more out in the Alley.

"Getting this is pointless really," Harley stated, stuffing the telescope into her bag before slinging of the of the straps onto her shoulder. "I mean, I'm pants at Astronomy. I got a P on my OWLs for it. Not that I ever intended to the take it NEWTs level."

Harley ignored the arched brow and Snape's look that told her that he thought she was of sub-intelligence, but also that he didn't care. She was far more concerned by her rather empty stomach and the sudden growl that it gave.

"What? I haven't eaten anything yet," Harley replied to Snape's disapproving look. She looked around and started to tug Snape, much to his surprise, by the sleeve. "Could we get Fortescues? Please?"

"Ice cream is not food," Snape hissed even as he followed along, trying to rip his sleeve from her hold without drawing attention to them.

"But lunch has already passed. And we still have more shopping to do. It'll just be to hold me over before we can have a proper meal. _Please?!_" Harley was shameless. And she didn't care if she had to beg, or use other underhanded tricks to get her way.

Seeing as Snape was still allowing her to tug him towards Florean Fortescues, she figured she hadn't pushed him too far and that he might just acquiesce.

"Fine, if it will get you to quit your whining and to unhand me!" Snape hissed.

Harley grinned over at the sour man, for the moment reminded of all the times she'd pester _her_ Snape and he'd tolerated it, in spite of who he was, and who she was. She could almost hug the man, feeling suddenly a very strong longing for _her_ Snape and feeling as if he was briefly returned to her in that moment. But she contained herself, knowing that _this_ Snape would be even less receptive towards her affection, seeing as he was still quite suspicious about her...

Besides, she suddenly recalled how terribly heart-broken she'd been the last time she'd gotten too close to Severus Snape... and felt her eyes fill with tears and her heart clenching tightly.

Turning away and refocusing on her objective, she stamped on those thoughts of her own world. They had no place in the here and now.

She was in the middle of greatly enjoying her popcorn and nacho-cheese flavored ice-cream (for which Snape had given her a look, as if she'd ordered a sundae of rat spleens) when suddenly, she was struck with the memory of the last time she'd been in Diagon Alley. Fortescue's was all boarded up because Florean Fortescue had gone missing.

Suddenly, she didn't feel like finishing her cone as she looked around the Alley, wondering how it was possible that she had forgotten just how dead it was, the last time she'd been there. How haunted and just awful... all those disappearances, all those boarded up windows, people running around and keeping their heads ducked.

It was strange, how easy sometimes it was to forget... because for the time being, this other world felt like a dream. The war... Voldemort... all those things simply seemed so far away and Harley found herself fervidly hoping that none of that, would come to pass in this world.

X

"Aren't we going to the second-hand robe shop?" Harley asked when they exited the stationary shop and she found that they were slowing down suddenly, even though the second-hand robe shop was at the end of the alley.

Snape didn't reply, merely choosing to narrow his eyes at her as he jerked his head in the direction of the door he'd just opened. Harley blinked as they stood just outside Madam Malkins. She didn't say anything as she slithered inside the shop and found herself immediately attended.

"She'll need four sets of school robes and five sets of uniforms; for Slytherin House. Also a Slytherin cloak, and another cloak of her choosing, preferably one well-suited for the cold. I think, two sets of robes for any occasion as well. Also a scarf, and gloves," Snape told Madam Malkin who was doing admirably composed, and not staring at him with wide eyes, with her mouth slightly agape.

Harley felt a little annoyed that Snape was essentially choosing her clothes that she'd have to wear for the rest of the year. But her stomach also felt heat, with the knowledge that the school stipend certainly couldn't afford all of _that_. Though shameless, Harley did have her pride, and she was more than a little uncomfortable with the idea that Snape would pay anything out of pocket for her.

'Well if that's how he's going to be,' Harley thought, thinking of her own way to retaliate to what was a kind, but nevertheless embarrassing gesture.

"Anything else?" Madam Malkin asked, not at all overwhelmed by the tall order. Snape was just opening his mouth, shaking his head when Harley suddenly jumped at the chance.

"I need socks and underwear too. I'm rather tired of using the same bra every day and going without knickers when they are in the wash," Harley piped up cavalierly, causing Madam Malkin's mouth to drop slightly and for Snape to turn blotchy red.

It was perhaps a bit childish and immature to be so secretly amused and entertained by the reactions of males to the 'mysteries abounding young women's bodies and their undergarments', but it was far too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, she really did need these items.

"Oh... of course," Madam Malkin tittered before grabbing Harley by the shoulders and steering her towards the back of the room.

Two hours later, Harley had all her school uniforms, along with a midnight purple cloak. And instead of the two sets of robes for everyday, Harley had instead chosen one set of black fitted robes with lavender swirls along the sleeve, and a large, black hooded sweater that was very soft and warm.

Not to mention a rather decent array of both comfortable under-things, as well as delicate and risque lingerie.

"Shouldn't you perhaps purchase these when you're with your mother, dear?" Madam Malkin asked, as she boxed away the delicate, little undergarments, shooting a look at the fuming, flustered Professor who was trying to pretend he was anywhere else while standing several feet away from the counter. He'd gotten one glance at the garments as Madam Pomfrey had carried them over and gone red as a radish, nearly stumbling back in abject horror.

"My mum's dead," Harley stated coolly, feeling somewhat tired herself after the fitting, that even torturing Snape's male sensibilities could not quite lift her spirits. Besides, she was now starving.

"Oh, I'm very sorry dear," Madam Malkin blushed. "Perhaps you could shop on your own then, in the future. I'm sure your father will be more than-"

"He's not my father." Harley corrected, narrowing her eyes at the woman even as she smirked, wondering just what the woman was thinking now about her possible relationship with Snape. She almost laughed aloud as the words 'sugar-daddy' pranced through her head.

'Oh, if only,' Harley thought as she shot a look towards the oblivious Snape, thinking that in no matter what universe, the man still seemed capable of making her heart twitter.

**TBC...**

**Diagon Alley**- Write about someone being amazed by something new. Alternatively, set a story in the Alley.

**A/N:** Sorry for the updates taking so long. I forgot to mention this the last chapter, but I'm momentarily without internet, so I can only update when I manage to get my laptop over to either the library or my boyfriend's place. But I've got this story written up to Chapter 13, those chapters just need editing.

Please remember to review; reviews help me know what the reader thinks of the story so far, and I like hearing what you enjoy and what you don't and if anything needs clarification.


	6. The Time Warp

**Prompt:** Demons of the Past (#897)

_**The Time Warp **_

_**or**_

_**The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters**_

Harley couldn't believe this was happening, even as she slung her bag onto the empty seat, and pushed her charmed trunk into the rack.

'Well,' she thought to herself as she dropped into the seat next to her bag, 'At least with school starting, I can wander the castle and go to Hogsmead instead of being trapped in Snape's private quarters, bored out of all sanity.'

Unfortunately she arrived far too early that hardly anyone started arriving on the platform yet.

'At least I've got a compartment to myself,' Harley thought as she sunk further into her seat. Though, she didn't see why she had to take the Express back to Hogwarts. Then again, gossip did tend to travel fast, so it might be suspicious if no one saw the 'New (fifth year) student' on the train.

Harley pulled off her glasses and wiped a hand over her faced tiredly. She hadn't been able to sleep last night, which was usually always the case on the eve of September 1st. All the excitement and trepidation of starting a new year of school always kept her up until the early, pre-dawn hours.

But back home, Sirius and Remus would keep her company. They'd stay up late in the parlor or kitchen playing all kinds of games and eating lots of junk food that Kreacher made up for her.

Of course, Remus didn't really approve of these festive all-nighters, especially on the eve of her starting school. But Remus was rather a pushover where these kinds of things were concerned and she had a feeling that like Sirius, Remus wanted to spend as much time as he could with their cub, before she was off back to school.

Harley thought that was part of the reason she had trouble falling asleep. All those memories... they made her miss home so fiercely, in a way she never had before, nor had allowed herself to miss home before.

But Harley couldn't afford to think of those things or the fact that she would never see the people she loved again. She didn't want to have another crying jag. She hated crying and already felt ashamed enough as it was for spending her first week or so in bed, drowning in tears.

So instead, she quietly sung herself to sleep. Somehow, that always helped. She supposed it had something to do with how remembering the lyrics, cleared her mind. Eventually, she'd dissolve into humming. Then she'd be off to her dreams and forget what was even keeping her awake.

Except for this time.

This time, she'd dreamt of home. Of what might have happened. And though it felt so real, she knew that it was a dream. A dream brought on by her thoughts of home.

It had been morning, in the dream and she found herself overlooking the Hospital Wing. She had only a view of a curtained off bed and its surrounding area and its occupants. The daylight was streaming through, pale as death. The air was somehow still, as if the whole world had come to a stop. Time itself had become meaningless.

On the bed, although she could not bring herself to look, was her body.

Remus... oh how her heart hurt to remember... he looked- he was so blank and still. There were deep bags under his glazed over eyes and his skin had the pallor of someone terminally ill. He hardly seemed to be breathing as he crouched on the floor with his back to the wall.

Though his face was utterly devoid of emotion, it was easy to see he was shattered. His heart broken, the pain so acute that his mind, in an effort of self-preservation, had simply shut off.

Harley wanted to do nothing more than go to him. But she wasn't really there. Only the shell that was left behind and this, incorporeal presence that inhabited every inch of the scene so she could see all. 

Sirius was there too, but his expression was one of incomprehension and frustration. He couldn't bring himself to look at the body on the bed, or even at Remus. Instead, he chose to argue with Madam Pomfrey, demanding that she do something to help his cub while Dumbledore was trying to get him to see the truth.

Dumbledore was failing; Sirius was stubborn like that.

Neville, poor Nevill was sitting in a chair opposite the bed and quietly weeping while Professor McGonagall stood next to him, patting him on the back and trying to console him. Words seemed to fail the stunned Head of Gryffindor.

When Snape strode in, all tight expression and swift, brisk strides, all hell broke loose.

Snape took one look at her death mask, and snapped. In seconds he was tackling Sirius to the ground and embedding the tip of his wand into Sirius' neck even as he tried to bash Sirius' head into the stones.

"This is all your fucking fault you fucking-" Snape was snarling, frothing at the mouth; his eyes hard and gleaming with madness even as he struggled with Sirius who was trying to fight him off.

Snape was cut off by a sudden '_Expelliarmus_' which took his and Sirius' wands and tossing the two men away from each other.

"The fuck are you on about, Snivellus?" Sirius asked while dragging himself to his feet; his voice rough and sounding like the great black dog he could turn into.

"It's your fault Miss Potter-" Snape started, launching towards Sirius again, but thwarted by a shield that Dumbledore threw up. Mindlessly, Snape continued to scrabble against the shield, his hard and shining eyes fixated on Sirius with such scorching loathing, the likes of which Harley had never seen, even from Snape.

Harley marveled at how much hatred Snape could harbor and distill into one look.

"You tried to brainwash her for years, teaching her stupid, fucking reckless, Gryffindor traits! Encouraging dangerous exploits and habits! Congratulations Black, you managed to turn your goddaughter into a fucking martyr- NO!- into a pig for slaughter! She's... she's..."

Harley watched with an ache in her chest, because Snape couldn't say what she was in such frank terms. That she was dead.

She could hear Sirius arguing and Dumbledore urging them that this was not the time, but her eyes instead drifted to her body... so still and pale...

Affixed to her face was a determined expression, but someone had shut her eyes.

Remus had moved over to her bedside when everyone was focused on Snape tackling Sirius and their subsequent wrestling.

Life was coming back to Remus as he pet her hair, his fingers tenderly and lovingly stroking back the dark mane. His face crumbled and tears started to silently spill down his cheeks.

As Snape had floundered to say the word dead, the fight leaving him empty as numbness set in, Remus broke. His body hunched and he draped his arms across her torso. His hands clenched her Slytherin jersey and he buried his face in her stomach while sobbing as quietly as he could. His body shook with grief and everyone fell quiet while all three men fell apart.

Sirius fell where he stood, on his ass. He clenched his hands unforgivingly into his hair and desperately tried to keep tears at bay. But they poured out against his will while he struggled to breathe against the onslaught of reality.

Snape merely stood frozen, his hands balled into fists. Seemingly unable to stay any longer, he moved to collect his wand and leave. He hadn't more than a step towards the exit, before Dumbledore called to him.

"Where are you going, Severus?"

"I am done," Snape said meaningfully after a long pause in which he stood, staring unseeingly at the ground. Though his face was composed into an expressionless mask, his refusal to turn around and his defeated posture spoke volumes of the grief he felt. "I can't do this anymore- I won't," he confessed so quietly, but like was always the case in his classroom, he was heard loud and clear by all.

He made to move once more, but again Dumbledore's voice halted him.

"We still need you-"

"There is nothing more for me... to do. I have failed."

"Harley would not-"

"Don't!" Snape hissed, whipping his head sharply in Dumbledore's direction, eyes flashing dangerously. "My duty was to _her_. _Always_ to _her_. And I've failed. I won't fucking do it anymore... _she's_ taken everything I've had left! There is nothing more!"

"You can't run away from this, Severus. When Voldemort-"

Snape chuckled darkly.

"Yes, he'll kill me before nightfall, but that doesn't matter to me. And the world can all burn for all I care," Snape replied in rough, gravelly tones, his velvety smooth voice torn from him. As he left the Hospital wing in quick and hurried strides, his robes billowing behind him like Death's cloak, Harley thought she might just hear the air cracking, as if the world really were burning.

That was when she startled awake in a cold sweat, eyes open wide in fear and her heart pounding away in her chest. She lay in bed, staring wildly towards the ceiling, marveling at how real and vivid her dream had been. Her thoughts flitting to what might have happened in her own world in the aftermath of her death, and hoping fervently that things hadn't occurred like in her dream.

Energy had flooded in with adrenaline. Fear and worry warred within her mind as she struggled to regulate her heart and tell herself that it was just a dream, brought on by her thoughts of home earlier that night.

She couldn't stay in bed though. Bed was a black-hole where thoughts of dreams would not cease to circle like vultures over a carcass. So she'd kicked off the covers and got to her feet. With little to no thought, she walked out into he living room.

To her immense relief, Snape was sitting at his armchair reading. He looked up and frowned as soon as her bedroom door had opened.

"_Don't you ever sleep?" Harley asked with a small lopsided smile, thinking that if this were _her_ Snape, she would have teased him about the 'rumours of him being a vampire being true'. But he wasn't _her_ Snape and they did not have that familiarity. The man before her had not taught her for six years, or dealt with all her shenanigans. _

"_What are you doing up?" Snape returned, unwilling to answer her question as he watched her through suspicious eyes. _

_Harley walked around the couch and plopped down on the end of it. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged them while she sat facing Snape. _

"_Can't sleep. Had a nightmare that woke me," Harley shrugged. Distantly, she realized that had she ever spent the summer with _her_ Snape, living in his quarters, she would have taken full advantage of it. In this world... it seemed such a waste, and Harley regretted that she hadn't really taken advantage of it. _

"_What of?" Snape asked in cavalier but curious tones. _

"_Home," the word came out like a whisper._

_Snape didn't ask what that meant. Instead, he asked while arching a brow, "And home is a nightmare?"_

"_I dreamt... I dreamt that in the aftermath of my death... it was like the world as going to go to hell," Harley replied with a frown at her knees, throat tightening with fear as she traced the lines of the navy blue and deep green plaid of her pajama bottoms which were a size or two too large and had come from the lost-and-found. _

_Snape, the one from her dreams, had just... given up! And with him, the victory that they might have hoped for, completely went up in smoke. Losing their spy, the Order would be working blindly. _

_Harley tried to comfort herself with the thought that _her_ Snape had never cared _that_ much about her. Yes, he cared for her as his student. Yes he tolerated her in spite of her parents and guardians. Hell, he even protected her in the name of the love he had for her mother. _

_But the Snape from her dream... he was as _devastated_ as Sirius and Remus. _

That_ Snape- the one from her dreams- must've loved her as deeply as her guardians did and perhaps even in the same capacity. Because if it was just because he'd failed her mother, then Snape would have simply been angry and directing his anger and hate at everything, even himself. Perhaps especially at Harley and himself. _

_Anger and hate, both had incredible sustaining powers. As did determination to complete a mission. Only grief, could deplete someone of their will... could strip away any sense of self and preservation. _

"_Quite the little egomaniac, aren't you? The world does not stop for one death. Not even for someone gifted with the ability to traverse time and space," Snape stated sarcastically, sneering at her. _

"_The world stops for nothing, but one person can change the course of it," Harley replied, looking at Snape for the first time since she'd woken. _

_Snape scoffed at her words and her confident, unwavering tone and Harley wondered as she stared at him, if he could fathom that she included him in that statement._

_But then, she supposed, that statement might not be true of him. Might not become the truth. This world could be so different... maybe Snape didn't have to be a spy here. _

X

Harley stirred at the sound of a door sliding. Before her eyes could blink open, she was fully sitting up. By the second blink, she wondered where she was before remembering that she was on the Hogwarts Express. By the third blink, she realized that she must've fallen asleep while lost in her thoughts. By the next blink, she was staring towards the door, wondering who had stepped into her compartment.

"Sorry to wake you, but I was wondering if you'd mind?" asked the girl standing just inside the door, with long and wavy locks of milk-chocolate hair, motioning to the seat opposite of Harley.

Harley blinked at the smiling girl. The teenage girl before her was very pretty, but that was not why she was staring.

Nodding at the tall girl with an enviable, curvy body, Harley tried not to make her staring too obvious.

It wasn't that the girl was so very pretty that Harley couldn't help staring, after all, after being around the likes of Daphne, Tracey and even Blaise, physical beauty could become rather uninspiring. But what simply boggled her mind was that, she was certain that she was staring at Gemma Farley.

"Sorry again, but everywhere's getting full up," Gemma stated, to which Harley merely nodded, turning to look out the window.

Considering that the train hadn't yet moved and was still stationed at Platform 9 and Three-Quarters, Harley assumed that she couldn't have napped more than half an hour. And indeed, the platform was now bustling with life, but to Harley it was all just so surreal and distant.

Her mind was still having trouble wrapping around her time warp. After all, Gemma was a fifth year prefect when Harley was a first year. So assuming that she'd been a fifth year prefect in this world as well, then Gemma was a sixth year... just a year ahead of Harley in schooling, but in actuality, a year younger than her now...

Turning back towards the brunette girl, Harley offered a slight smile; attempting desperately to remain composed.

"Sorry, I think I'm still half asleep," Harley stated sheepishly, though her body now felt it was buzzing as she realized what it really meant to be back in 1992. Gemma would hardly be the first student she came across that she'd already known in some capacity back home. "I'm Harley Evans," Harley introduced herself politely with a mild smile, trying not to flinch or show her displeasure at her last name as she stretched her hand out to Gemma Farley.

Gemma grinned... that cheeky but friendly smile that Harley had often seen in her first three years of school.

She'd rather liked Gemma as a person, which was not something that could be said of most Slytherins. Gemma was simply this odd combination of bright and funny, authoritative but not bossy or overbearing. She was simply easy to get on with and Harley had often wished the girl hadn't been a fifth year.

Unfortunately, even now, they were not in the same year and Harley didn't know if they could become friends. Not that Harley had ever had any talent for making friends.

"Gemma Farley," Gemma smiled. That was one thing about Gemma, she always had an easy and sincere smile ready. "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen you before. What year are you in?"

"Fifth, though you wouldn't have seen me before. I've been home-schooled up till now," Harley replied, causing Gemma's dark-chocolate colored eyes to widen.

"OH! I've never heard of someone starting late... that must be something," Gemma stated as Harley tried not to think about having to repeat this information perhaps again and again. She'd already decided that she wasn't going to go around telling anyone her real age... it was simply too embarrassing to allow people to believe that she'd fallen behind two years. "So do you know what House you're going to be in?"

Harley nodded her head. "Came up during summer to get it all... well sorted. The hat's placed me in Slytherin."

"Oh, well that's my house!" Gemma stated, grinning so wide now that her perfectly straight and white teeth were all showing.

'I know,' Harley thought dryly to herself, even as she smiled at Gemma.

"What year are you in?" Harley asked, even though she already knew the answer. But Harley was good at masks and pretending. After all, of the three influential men in her life, Sirius was the most transparent and he was an _Auror_.

"Sixth,"Gemma replied, with a slight scrunching of the nose, as if she regretted that she and Harley would not be in the same year. "Although, I really don't envy you doing OWLs. Bloody nightmare that was."

Harley almost groaned and agreed. But instead, merely nodded her head and grimaced. She did not look forward to doing those tests all over again. Not that she'd ever studied so very hard in the first place, but still. They were dreadfully boring and long. And she certainly wasn't looking forward to the workload.

"So, how was home-schooling? Fancy any of your tutors?" Gemma teased, to which Harley couldn't help laughing at that.

'Of if you knew,' Harley thought, eyes sparkling with mirth while wondering if it was possible to still be friends with Gemma.

X

About an hour into the journey towards Hogwarts, in which they hadn't been disturbed, Harley decided to go to the loo. At least, that's what she told Gemma. In actuality, she rather hoped to find Harry. She was really rather dying to see him and explain why he hadn't heard from her and to hear how the rest of his summer had gone.

Peeking briefly into every compartment as she made her way down the train, having picked her compartment at the very back of the train, Harley felt her stomach twist every time she saw someone she recognized.

It seemed most of the Slytherins were congregated on her end of the train.

First she spotted Lucian Bole, and Peregrine Derrick, Beaters on the Slytherin team from the time she was a second year until fourth year, when there had been no Quidditch at all. Harley grimaced on spotting the two large and rather stupid boys and wanted to bang her head against the wall when she realized she'd be in the same year as them.

They were seated in the same compartment as Marcus Flint, who she guessed was now in his seventh year... his first seventh year (because the troll had failed and been forced to repeat his seventh year).

Further along, she came across other members of the Slytherin team. Warrington, Bletchely, Montague ...

She was halfway down the train when she came across Malfoy and his two goons. Harley almost burst into laughter when she saw how much taller she was than the blonde-haired git.

The blonde boy merely glared at her, as if he could see the laughter in her eyes as she walked past him. She could feel his eyes on her back as she continued to make her way down the train.

She and the ferrety prat had never got on, since the first time they set eyes on each other, which was before they'd ever come to Hogwarts. Though, she supposed that was to be expected. Sirius and Narcissa didn't get on either.

Harley came to a sudden stop when she peeked into a compartment and spotted a familiar, bushy-haired girl.

Hermione Granger... Harley had never got on that well with Hermione in her own world, though she never participated in Pansy's bullying of her. Hermione's compulsory need to show off how smart she was, had always rubbed Harley the wrong way, and she couldn't help rolling her eyes every time the Gryffindor's hand had shot into the air during a class. She even made a game of it, counting the amount of times, and eventually taking bets from her Slytherin classmates on how often Hermione would raise her hand in class.

Harley hadn't hated Hermione, but she hadn't liked her much either. Malfoy, she'd hated. Pansy, she'd hated. Hermione only sometimes grated on her nerves. But for the most part, Harley could ignore the know-it-all.

However, the reason she stopped was because she'd spotted Hermione seated with Neville. She was rather surprised when she also spotted the Weasley twins and Ginny Weasley seated in the compartment. (And wasn't that just strange, being older than the twins?)

It made Harley suddenly realize, that she didn't know who Harry had made friends with, assuming he'd been able to make friends at all.

She didn't even what House he was sorted in. And she simply couldn't take it for granted, that the only difference between them was their gender and age.

Experience had made of them different people. And there was no accounting for will and choice. Lily and James were Gryffindors, after all, back home. She'd been raised by Gryffindors. She'd _chosen_ to become a Slytherin.

But what of Harry? If given a choice, what would he have chosen? If not, was it possible he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, as his parents might have been? Or perhaps the sorting hat, had placed him in Hufflepuff or even Ravenclaw.

Although, Harley rather doubted Harry was a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Mostly because Snape would have made a sneering comment about it, if it had been the former, and even the latter.

It hadn't taken very long to realize that Snape _hated_ Harry Potter, in a way that _her_ Snape had _never_ hated her.

Having lingered too lost in her thoughts, staring blankly through the compartment glass, Harley couldn't help jumping when the compartment door slid open and one of the twins poked their heads through the door.

"Well what have we got here?" Twin 1 asked.

"I don't know, Forge, but I say it's a spy," Twin 2 replied.

"What do you propose we do about it?" Twin 1 again.

"I don't know about you, but I think abduction is our best option," Twin 2 stated, before both broke out into grins. The grins that Harley had long learned meant trouble.

**TBC...**

**The Journey From Platform Nine and Three Quarters**- Write about someone making a new friend. Alternatively, write about the Weasley Family.


	7. Better Be

**A/n: **Sorry about no update until now but I couldn't get around to it. But my internet seems to be working (at least for now). Because this chapter is shorter than others, I will try to update again either tomorrow or Friday (assuming of course that my internet is still working then, my internet is wonky and doesn't always work).

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review, I really appreciate it, and thanks to everyone for the faves and follows. I'm glad people are enjoying this story. I wasn't really certain about it because it has a Fem/Harry and also involved canon and two different universes.

I wanted to say special thanks to s_unsethill_. Your reviews in particular, always make my day. I love hearing your thoughts on the chapters. :) Thanks for all the thoughtful reviews.

**Prompt:** Unnatural Selection (#903)

_**Better Be... **_

_**or**_

_**The Sorting Hat**_

People at the Slytherin table were staring. Harley could feel their eyes on her as she sat with them, but she ignored them in favor of allowing her eyes to comb through the hall, taking in the familiar ceiling, the High Table, and the three other tables running the length of the hall.

If the other's assumed that she was taking in the Great Hall for the first time, so be it. She was instead rather more concerned searching for Harry, in spite of her enlightening time spent in the compartment with a bunch of Gryffindors.

_(A Gryffindor ME... how about that!)_

Brow furrowed in concern at the knowledge that Harry (nor Ron, but he wasn't really her concern) had been on the train was making her rather worried.

She bit her lip as she recalled the suspicious way Hermione Granger had regarded her.

For a twelve-year-old, Hermione's gaze was less than intimidating, but still disconcerting. Apparently, Harry had told his two best friends, Ron and Hermione– _and how the hell did that happen?!_- about Harley's visit and her claims to be a distant relative of his.

Hermione, she could tell, didn't really want to buy it, but couldn't seem to explain away the striking resemblance between Harley and Harry. But she was suspicious, and unrelenting in her third degree. Harley worried her lip, thinking she was going to have to be very careful around Hermione, knowing the girl was just nosy and clever enough to figure out the truth- that is if she could expand her mind enough to wrap around the strange concept that Harley still struggled with- and she was _living_ it!

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Harley looked, she couldn't seem to find Harry.

Continuing to chew on her lip, she wondered where he was and if he was okay. Shooting a look towards the High Table, she also noticed that Snape was missing and wondered if he was out searching for Harry.

After she managed to escape form the Gryffindors, she locked herself in one of the bathrooms and sent her Patronous to Snape, with a message informing him about the fact that though Harry had come to King's Cross, that he never actually got on the train. Nor had Ron Weasley.

Harley wasn't sure why she'd sent the Patronous to Snape, rather instead of Dumbledore. Especially when considering that Snape didn't seem trust her and who she claimed to be. But she supposed that even though he wasn't _her_ Snape, she still somehow trusted this Snape more than Dumbledore.

Perhaps this Snape wasn't in love with Lily Potter, perhaps this Snape hadn't been a Death Eater who turned spy, perhaps this Snape didn't dedicate his life to protecting Lily Potter's child... but somehow, Harley felt that this Snape, really wasn't any different from _her_ Snape. She felt that she could still trust him.

Harley had always been intuitive and a decent judge of character.

When the sorting finally started, Harley tried to pay attention, but found her mind far too concerned with where Harry could be, and thinking about the fact that Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor and what that might mean.

'What will he think of me being in Slytherin?' Harley wondered to herself with a gnawing sensation of worry.

Gryffindors didn't take to Slytherins, any better than Slytherins took to Gryffindors. In fact, Harley found in most cases, that Gryffindors could be even more closed-minded about Slytherins, than the other way around.

Once more, like many other times in her life, Harley wondered what had possessed her to pick Slytherin.

She could still remember, as she stared unseeingly at the small first year now seated on the stool; the memory crystal clear.

The hat was too big for her head, the brim of it completely covering her eyes so that all she could see was the inside. And then the voice, quiet but ancient. Deep and soothing, but somehow still managing to make her tense with anxiety.

"_Hmmm_," the sorting hat had hummed as soon as it was settled. "_Difficult. Very difficult. Very good mind... and sooo much talent! No small amount of courage either. You would fit, quite well in Gryffindor but..."_

_Harley internally cringed at the thought of Gryffindor. Yes, undoubtedly that would make Sirius and Remus both very proud and happy... but Harley didn't think she could take it anymore. Didn't think she could stand, following in her parents footsteps and further losing any sense of identity as something that was apart from them. _

"_That's not challenging enough for you, I can see. No... you want to set yourself apart, want to be seen for yourself," the hat went on, as if reading her thoughts. As if he could hear the objection in her heart. "You can be cunning if you desire. Slytherin would help you refine your particular talents... you could be great."_

_Harley chewed on her lip, feeling her heart stutter at thought. _

_A part of her was frightened at that thought. She couldn't stand the thought of Hufflepuff or Gryffindor defining her for the next seven years. But becoming a Slytherin was whole different battle. _

_What would Sirius do? Harley knew him enough to know that he would be disappointed, and unable to hide it. But would he stop loving her? Would he hate and reject her? Would their relationship break as his relationship with Regulus?_

_Tears welled up at the thought of losing Sirius' love. Her heart clenching at the thought._

_And then she thought of Remus. Remus would never stop loving her... she knew that. No matter what she was, what she became, no matter what awful things she might do... Remus would never stop loving her. His love was pure and unconditional... but would he be disappointed? Harley wasn't so sure. _

_But if Slytherin was where she belonged... how could she refuse the possibility that would set her completely apart from her parents and guardians?_

_And if Sirius couldn't accept that... if his love wasn't unconditional, then what did it matter in the end? What good did it do her if he couldn't love and accept her for who she really was?_

_Harley's head jerked in an unconscious nod, as she reached her conclusion, even as her heart thundered. _

"_Slytherins have more heart and loyalty, than given credit for," the hat told her. "And I think it'll help you to see, just who you are and the world around you._

"_SLYTHERIN"_

Harley didn't really make any friends in Slytherin, at least not that first night. She'd disliked the majority of her year-mates almost immediately, though she found the Slytherin common room to have it's charm in spite of it's eerie green ambiance, and the speech Gemma Farley had given, had caused her to hope that she'd chosen the best house.

But that first night, she lay in bed staring up the ceiling, lost in her thoughts about Sirius and his reaction. She felt sick, thinking that he might stop loving her, even as she remained convinced that if that was the truth, then she needed to know for certain.

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to write to either Sirius or even Remus, about the fact that she'd been sorted into Slytherin. But somehow they'd known. Someone told them and on her third day at school, Harley had received a letter from Remus, informing her that he was proud of her and that he loved her and that she needn't be afraid of what they thought, because nothing was going to change that.

And much to Harley's surprise, Sirius had written too. And though he couldn't quite stop himself from taking a potshot or two at Slytherin House (though they were rather tame, considering what Sirius was capable of) and he'd asked her how it was possible for her to be sorted into Slytherin and that the hat must've made some kind of mistake, he still told her he loved her. Told her that Slytherin had lucked out and gotten a very smart and talented witch, and that they should feel honored to have her. And that if any Slytherin gave her a hard time, to remind them that she was raised by a Black and had a full library of Dark curses at her disposal.

Harley had felt so overjoyed to know that both Sirius and Remus still loved her, that she'd almost cried in front of her fellow housemates.

Which would not have been good. Because no matter the fact that Slytherin wasn't evil as the rest of the school seemed to believe, it was also not a House for the weak. Slytherins sniffed out weakness and devoured it, like sharks.

But Harley still remained convinced nonetheless, in spite of being friendless for the most part, that she'd picked a good house. Slytherin fit her, the way no other house could. It challenged her... and kept her sharp. Sure, it came with a lot of fighting, and no small amount of pain, suffering and loneliness, but she felt like that made of her all the stronger a person. Made her all the more intuitive, cunning and most importantly, someone who could survive it all.

And... well Slytherin had given her Snape. How could she regret that?

**TBC...**

**The Sorting Hat-** Write about whichever house you think you belong in. Alternatively, write about someone being sorted.


	8. Pale Masks

**A/n: **The next chapter as promised. Probably won't update again until Tuesday, assuming of course that my internet will continue to work.

**Prompt: **Pale Masks (#915)

_**Pale Masks**_

_**or**_

_**The Potions Master**_

Harley didn't stay in the Slytherin common room after dinner, in spite of the comfort that the familiar room should've provided. But comfort was not really something to find in the Slytherin common room, or in Slytherin period. Slytherin, in fact, seemed to designed for the purpose of making a person hard. Designed to make little Slytherins accept the darkness and become so comfortable with it, that it became home.

As Harley took the stairs down to the Slytherin girls, fifth year dorm, unbothered by the chill creeping through her school robes, she wondered again if perhaps she shouldn't go to see if Snape was in his office. Perhaps she could ask him about Harry if he was in.

Rumors were spreading through the school during dinner that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had flown a car to school. Which Harley found very hard to believe, but was somehow... not unbelievable to the rest of the school. In fact, people seemed completely convinced of the veracity, which was disconcerting.

Did Harry often perform such dangerous feats?

Harley chewed on her lip as she entered the dorm designated for the fifth-year girls. She was so caught up in her thoughts, that she didn't notice the other person already settled on one of the five four-poster beds, the one nearest to the entrance.

The Slytherin dormitories were rectangular rooms, with all the beds lined up along one wall. Along the wall opposite of the beds, large, circular windows that were about three feet in diameter were spaced about two feet apart and hovered high overheard, letting in the eerie green light of the lake. They were charmed too, to give the allusion of light coming in through them when it was daylight... as if the dormitories were much closer to the surface of the lake than they actually were.

Beneath the windows, full-length mirrors that were lined on each side by torches, also alternated with wardrobes which corresponded to each bed.

At the end of the line of beds, opposite of the entrance, was a door which led to a bathroom.

Harley continued to gnaw on her plump, bottom lip as she located her designated bed by her trunk... a black one with a faded, silver H on the top of it and with her first name engraved on the left, front corner. Her bed had somehow ended up dead center in the room, something Harley didn't really appreciate but didn't see the point in changing at present.

Harley had only just dropped at the foot of her bed when a posh, sultry voice startled her.

"So... you're the new fifth year," Harley stared and out of the darkness of the first bed, emerged a girl who'd been sitting with her legs curled under her and a book in her lap as she sat against her headboard.

For a moment, Harley blinked, quite stunned as she was caught off guard. How had she not noticed the girl when she came in? She found herself wondering as she stared across the bed between them as she girl scooted to the edge of her bed to sit on it, facing Harley and studying her with intelligent eyes.

In the darkness that was Slytherin, even with her eyes adjusted, it was difficult to discern coloring. But the girl opposite her was slender too, and if Harley had to guess at the girl's height, she'd say the girl was no more than a couple inches taller than Harley.

"I'm Mina Harker, and a word of advice, your bed is stuck between Amarantha Baptist and Ilene Dobbs. Amarantha is the good sort; sticks to herself, doesn't trouble anyone, but Ilene is insufferable little puppet. If I were you, I'd ask one of the House Elves to switch me. Although, don't get any closer to Calliope if you can help it."

Harley furrowed her brow at the advice coming from the talkative Mina Harker as she tried to think back to her own world and if she remembered any of these girls. But as she was a second year... the only older students she'd known then was because they were Quidditch players or Prefects and such.

Though, that being said... Amaratha Baptist sounded vaguely familiar. And for some reason, the name Calliope was also ringing bells.

"I'm Harley Evans," Harley introduced herself, before turning to regard the two beds behind her. Though she had reason to be suspicious of Mina, somehow she sensed that the girl though not strictly friendly, was honest in her way. Turning back to the girl that was still watching her, she spoke up. "So are you suggesting then that the best place for my bed is between yours and Amaratha Baptist's?"

"It is... unless of course you're of Calliope's or Ilene's persuasion. Are you an Ice Queen, or Ice Queen worshipper?"

Harley snorted. "Not even close."

"Then you're probably better off on this end of the room. Of course, if you're going to _room_ next to me, you better not be troublesome. I don't take kindly to superior bullies, or righteous, bossy snots," Mina replied in deadpan and in spite of her cool tones, Harley found that she was rather starting to like Mina Harker.

"I'll treat you with the respect and civility you afford me; that's my golden rule... treat people as they treat you," Harley replied with a slight smirk.

Mina tilted her head. Her hair, which looked dark in this lighting, was a few inches past her shoulders and somewhat wavy, and all piled onto her right shoulder. After a moment, she nodded her head curtly.

"That's sensible," Mina replied.

"Do you know any House Elves?" Harley asked. Instead of responding, Mina clapped her hands three times. A house elf appeared in the room with a loud pop.

"Cans Twisty help young miss?" the elf asked; Harley wasn't surprised by it's appearance. Many Slytherins were able to call the Hogwarts House Elves, and the House Elves were usually inclined to answer, so long as the requests were reasonable and the student calling wasn't cruel to them. Hogwarts House elves seemed unique in the sense that they responded to cruelty from students with subtle retaliation, going as far as refusing to clean their school uniforms by way of protesting ill-treatment. But by the same coin, there were some House elves that became so attached to some Slytherin students, that they would even break Hogwarts rules for them.

"Harley would like to switch beds with Amarantha. Would you please switch their positions, Twisty?" Mina requested politely, her tone it's sweetest and friendliest Harley had heard it thus far.

Mina must be a favorite amongst the elves, Harley thought. For her part, back in her own world, Harley didn't like to trouble the Hogwarts House Elves and never needed to call on them.

Twisty nodded her or his head (Harley could rarely tell their gender) and snapped its fingers. The trunk at the foot of the bed between Mina's and Harley's raised into the air at the same time as Harley's and the trunks switched places.

Harley rose immediately and moved over to the next bed before the bed expelled her, as beds, trunks and the wardrobes were warded to only open or accommodate the student they were designated for. At least in Slytherin.

At that moment, the door to their dorm opened and two very tall girls walked in. The first was a buxom blonde who was very pretty in a boring sort of way. At the sight of her, Harley instantly felt her stomach drop because the girl had strikingly similar characteristic to another blonde she'd known.

_Daphne Greengrass_. Harley grimaced as she locked eyes with the blonde who studied her only for a moment, cold eyes sweeping over her glasses and unruly hair before sneering and turning away with a superior sort of air.

She now remembered that Daphne Greengrass had an older _and_ a younger sister. It was said that each Greengrass girl was more beautiful than the last, and Daphne certainly was prettier than _this_ blonde. However, Harley didn't think she'd ever seen or cared about Calliope Greengrass. But just one look at her now, and Harley was certain that she'd detest Calliope in a way she'd never detested Daphne.

Somehow, Daphne was superior and cold, without being obnoxious. Perhaps that was because compared to Pansy, Daphne hardly ranked on the annoyance meter. Or perhaps Tracey, Daphne's best friend, somehow dulled Daphne's impact or softened her edges.

Although, Harley had always sort of gotten the sense that Daphne was gay... and might actually have some sort of fondness for her. Though, Harley hadn't really wanted to believe it, telling herself that she was being conceitedly delusional, thinking Daphne Greengrass, Belle of Slytherin House, could fancy _her_.

If Daphne was gay, surely she'd fancy Tracey before she'd ever fancy Harley. Harley was a mess.

Tracey was easily the second most beautiful girl in Slytherin House, if not in their entire year. And if Tracey was too close to Daphne in a sisterly sort of way for Daphne to consider her, Harley was quite sure that in the looks department that she was outranked by the Patil twins, and Morag McDougal.

Trailing behind Calliope like a puppy, and shooting a less than intimidating smirk at Harley, was a girl with straight, light-colored hair. Not blonde, but Tracey could tell that it wasn't red either. Perhaps light brown?

Turning around, Harley watched as the blonde girl sat on the bed closest to the shower-room. The girl behind her, took the next bed so Harley guessed that the other girl was Ilene Dobbs.

Turning back around to face Mina, Harley saw the pointed look Mina was giving her, as if to say, _'I told you.'_

Harley sighed as she lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what she was in for, for the next three years.

She didn't allow herself the false sense of security of having found a friend in Mina Harker, though she was disposed to like the girl. But she didn't know her... and might never know her truly. Everyone in Slytherin wore a pale mask, something fragile that sometimes faltered or was even translucent, but became ever more affixed and opaque the more they grew.

Friends didn't truly exist in Slytherin House. Relationships in Slytherin were more like alliances and partnerships, and they were over as soon as one became detrimental or useless.

It was true, Slytherins were capable of making some of the strongest bonds, but those were rare and required something stronger than money and blood to form. They required some sort of sacrifice, and a sentiment that bordered on devotion, to exist.

Harley wasn't holding out for such a thing, knowing that it was as rare to find as a black unicorn.

**TBC...**

**The Potions Master-** Write about an instant dislike between two people. Alternatively, write about Snape.

* * *

_Selyne Nightshade_- Thank you for the review. There will be plenty Harry/Harley and Snape/Harley interaction in future chapters, but I think the next two may still be like introductory chapters.

_sunsethill_- You mentioned once that you would like for Harley to find out what is happening back in her world or for the reader to. I don't want to give much away, and I haven't decided whether or not I will include POVs of characters from her world (as that might get confusing), but Harley will find out a bit more about her world in future chapters.

Everyone else, thank you for reading and remember to review!


	9. The House Divide

**A/n: **So here is the next chapter as promised. As it is a short chapter, I will update again probably Thursday.

Thanks to everyone taking the time to review. It's really appreciated.

**Prompt:** Road Untaken (#553)

_**The House Divide**_

_**or**_

_**The Midnight Duel**_

Harley was making her way towards the Great Hall the following morning, but before she could reach the large double-doors she heard someone call her name. Turning towards the sound, she watched as Harry piratically flew off the last step on the Grand Staircase and ran straight for her.

A happy and relieved smile started to spread across her face and she just managed to open her arms as Harry launched himself into them for a hug.

"Hey kid," Harley laughed as she wrapped him up in her arms and placed a kiss at the top of his head, amazed by how much affection she felt for him, even as she felt her heart breaking slightly.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she was one of the first and only people to have ever hugged Harry, and felt her heart ache for the little boy who'd been so deprived of affection.

That day, before she allowed Professor Dumbledore to drag her back to the castle, she'd grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled him in for a hug when she saw how disappointed his little face had looked. Harry had been so surprised by the unexpected embrace that his body had frozen. But Harley hadn't let him go until Harry had reacted, his movements slow and cautious. But even as he tentatively returned her hug, his fingers had curled tightly into the material of her t-shirt, as if he had to hold on tightly, to make sure that it was real.

"Where have you been? I was looking everywhere for you!" Harley exclaimed as Harry pulled away, grinning at her happily.

"Yeah, Hermione mentioned-" Harry started, motioning behind him to his friends. Harley barely looked over at the still suspicious Hermione and the gaping, puzzled Ron. However, Harry's sudden silence brought her attention quickly back to the young boy. His green eyes were wide and looked mildly horrified. "You're... how... _Slytherin_?"

Harley looked down at her school robes, specifically at the crest that Harry was staring at with disbelief.

"Oh yeah," Harley said uncertainly, with a shrug, her stomach knotting.

For several seconds, silence reigned. Neither Harry nor Harley really knew what to say to the other and as Harley took in the Gryffindor crest and tie, seeing for herself the truth of what she'd been told the previous day, she couldn't help wondering.

From her understanding, Harry was best friends with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and they were closer... well perhaps as close as the Marauders had ever been.

Harley was struck, with how their paths, whether chosen or not, had helped to mold them. Changed them, perhaps. And Harley couldn't help wondering as she shot a look at the now suspicious Ron Weasley and at the wary Hermione Granger, both clearly extremely protective of Harry, that the road Harry had taken was somehow wrought with what Harry probably needed most in his life.

Her introspective mood was broken, before Harley could begin to doubt her own choice of House, by a shriek.

Looking past Harry as Harry whirled around, they both soon enough spotted the reason for the commotion. Peeves was floating overhead, cackling while holding balloons filled with what looked like icy water. Hermione had been the first victim.

Peeves...

Harley as a Slytherin, didn't often have to be on the receiving end of Peeve's mischief. The Bloody Baron, being Slytherin's ghost, rather took care of that.

Grabbing Harry by the robes, Harley quickly moved into the Great Hall, towing Harry along with her. Ron followed after them quickly, pulling a soaking wet and shivering Hermione along. Once in the relative safety of the Great Hall, Harley knew that Peeves wouldn't dare follow. He was pretty much banned from ever entering the Great Hall.

Turning back to the three second years, ignoring the eerie way the hall seemed to quiet for a moment before bursting into a bee's nest of buzzing. Turning towards a dripping Hermione, she grimaced slightly as the girl held out her hands and attempted to flick as much water as she could from her, as well as ringing out her dripping hair.

"Never looked better, Granger!" Harley heard the all too-familiar and obnoxious voice of Pansy Parkinson call, as was the familiar cackle that followed.

Pulling out her wand Harley pointed it towards Hermione.

"Hey! What do you-" Ron started up defensively.

However, Harley didn't listen to him as she cast a drying charm on the second year girl. While Harley had never been a fan of Hermione Granger, and she hadn't really appreciated being grilled on the train by the younger girl, she also didn't think Hermione deserved to be humiliated. Especially with the school year only starting.

Remembering how merciless Pansy was towards the bushy-haired girl, she couldn't help wanting to help her now, knowing that Hermione was in for many years of malignant teasing from the pug-faced girl.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled.

"I think your hair's too thick and curly to dry completely. But if you like, there's this spell I learned when I was trying to manage my own unruly and temperamental hair. It never really worked for me, because my hair doesn't grow in evenly and there were hairs always short enough to escape, but your hair is long and even, so it would probably work better," Harley offered.

"Thank you, but I think I'll just deal with it on my own," Hermione replied politely, if a bit tightly. Harley didn't take offense, knowing that the girl probably felt self-conscious about her hair and didn't appreciate getting hair advice.

Harley shrugged. "All right," Harley said easily, turning her attention back to Harry who was staring at her with a gaze that was still confused, but somewhat softer. However, she could see the caution now tainting his gaze as he looked at her.

"Umm... I guess I'll see you around?" Harry said, his voice part hopeful part uncertain. As if he wasn't sure he should continue his association with her, or if he was uncertain if she would want to continue to associate with him.

Harley sighed internally, not wanting to push but feeling slightly disappointed. Though, Harry was a kid, she reasoned. 'He probably still sees things in black and white for the most part.'

"Yeah," Harley replied, offering a small and fractured smile before turning and heading towards the Slytherin table.

"What the hell was that Evans?" Ilene Dobbs called as Harley walked past. However, Harley didn't deem the girl who apparently found out her surname, worthy of anything more than flipping her off without so much as looking at her.

"How crude and perfectly plebeian," commented Calliope's sickeningly mellifluous voice, her tone of sneering superiority tinged with cold amusement.

Once more, Harley ignored the girl as she took a seat across from Mina Harker, who didn't look up from the letter she seemed to be writing.

'It's too damn early to lose heart,' Harley told herself sternly, forcing herself to pile some food on her plate. 'Just give Harry time, and things will probably get... get much worse,' Harley thought with a sigh, her Slytherin sensibilities telling her never to hope for things to get better.

**TBC...**

**The Midnight Duel-** Write about Peeves. Or write about someone finding something they shouldn't.


	10. Of Harkers and Frauds

**A/N: **I decided to update a day early, because tomorrow I might be too tired and brain dead to update.

**Prompt:** Depth of Knowledge (# 212)

_**Of Harkers and Frauds**_

_**or**_

_**Halloween**_

Across the table, Amarantha Baptist with her shiny Prefect badge on her chest, looked at Harley questioningly with her striking, hazel eyes. However, she didn't say anything, merely gave Harley a small, mysterious smile and turned her own attention back to her meal, daintily wrapping her full, pink lips around a spoon.

Just as Mina had told her the previous night, Amarantha Baptist kept mostly to herself. She was friendlier than Mina, but also seemed very reserved and aloof. But judging by the badge on her chest, and the stack of books she piled up on her nightstand, Amarantha was not only stunningly beautiful but smart and responsible.

She was prettier even than Calliope, and therefore seemed to receive much of the other blonde's scorn.

But where Calliope and Daphne both had straight, sleek hair the color of pale hay, Amarantha's hair was honey-blonde.

Harley couldn't help wondering at Slytherins. It seemed that for Slytherins... they were either extremely unattractive, or extremely attractive; anything that fell in between the two extremes was sparse.

For her part, Harley felt that she must be one of the sparse in-betweens. Her father, she knew had been considered exceedingly handsome and her mother quite beautiful. But she'd inherited more from her father, then from her mother and the only thing about her that she felt was striking, was her bright, emerald green eyes.

Sure, her facial structure was more feminine and her lips were plumper than her father's and perhaps even her mother's, but Harley didn't consider herself anything more than pretty. And at that, she was sure she might be reaching. Perhaps plain was a more accurate description. Although, not so plain as Ilene Dobbs, whose hair at least was manageable whereas Harley's was an untamable wreck.

Harley was brought out of her mindless eating of her breakfast when a pale hand popped before her face, holding onto a sheet of parchment.

Straightening in her seat, Harley followed the familiar hand up the black-robed arm and to the man standing slightly towards her right. Snape gave her a pointed look even as he stared at her with an unfathomable expression in his dark eyes.

Harley gulped her porridge hard and took the parchment from his hand after unceremoniously dropping her spoon. "Thank you, sir," Harley smiled up at him, taking the timetable.

Snape didn't say anything as he moved past her. Harley turned and watched her Head of House for a moment, wondering what the man had been wondering about her as he continued to move down the table, handing out schedules.

For a moment, she narrowed her eyes when she saw him reach Calliope Greengrass, who batted her long and curly lashes at the man and gave him a seductive smile that made Harley's stomach turn.

'What the hell?' she wondered, not liking the expanded pupils that were staring out from bright blue pools at their Potion's Master.

"Gross, isn't it?" Gemma commented and Harley turned, noticing that Gemma was also watching Calliope's attempts at enticing Snape who was either not interested or did not notice. Though Harley guessed it was the first. Snape wasn't the oblivious sort and as impossible as it seemed that a student may be interested in him, it wasn't unheard of from Slytherins.

Harley wasn't sure how to respond to that, not sure if Gemma meant Calliope's display, or the fact that she would want _Snape_.

"Yeah, I guess," Harley replied noncommittally, forcing her attention to the timetable, though she found she didn't really see it. The idea that Calliope was interested in Snape made her both uncomfortable and anxious. And there was no little degree of jealousy to accompany the writhing in her stomach.

"You can bet now that she's at the age of consent, she's going to go after him with everything she has," Gemma commented.

Harley grimaced at that. The age of consent for witches and wizards was fifteen, something that Harley had always found strange and a little bit disturbing. Fifteen struck her as a bit young, even when she'd been fifteen herself. Though the law seemed irrelevant, as most witches of that age were stuck in Hogwarts and rarely exposed to older wizarding society, so the 'seduction' by an older party was rare.

Except of course where purebloods were concerned. Which was probably why the age of consent had never been raised in the past three hundred years. Purdebloods wanted to reserve the right to marry off their children as soon as they legally could. Though, causes for such an early marriage had largely become scant, so there weren't many married fifteen or sixteen-year-olds in the wizarding world if there were any at all.

Harley supposed that the age had never been raised because Purebloods simply objected to change very much on all matters.

"Why the hell would she go after Professor Snape?" Harley asked with a frown, feeling even worse now at the reminder of consent laws. Though Harley was officially an adult in the wizarding world, she didn't like that her fifteen-year-old classmates, particularly Calliope, were at the age of consent.

"My guess is she's drawn to power. And our fearless leader happens to be the embodiment of it, and his being Head of Slytherin makes him the most attractive and appropriate option," Gemma replied with a shrug of her shoulders, now turning to her own breakfast. "That or she wants to practice her skills of seduction on a man... teenage boys don't require any effort after all."

Harley continued to frown but tried to focus on something else instead. She didn't have time to worry about what Calliope was up to, and she didn't think it really mattered.

'Like Snape would ever give her the time of day. He's not interested in _children_.'

Though, Calliope hardly looked like a child... indeed, she could pass for a woman in her early twenties. Whereas Harley, always looked a few years younger than her own age. Or at least, most people mistook her for someone years younger than she was.

Harley groaned when she finally focused on her schedule.

"What's wrong?" Gemma asked.

"We have Lockhart first thing today," Harley groaned.

"And that's bad?" Gemma asked, causing Harley to turn to look at her with a raised brow.

"Yes! He's a bloody vain, pompous, boob!"

"But at least he's a good-looking, vain, pompous boob," Gemma grinned, raising her brows suggestively at Harley. "I sure wouldn't mind having a piece of that!"

Harley, who had never had much regard for physical attractiveness merely shook her head and looked at the other girls around her. Mina for her part, seemed to not know what was going on around her, never having looked up form the _book_ she was apparently writing.

Amarantha Baptist, who was listening but not participating, blushed to the roots of her honey blond hair and averted her warm, hazel eyes. She tried to hide her face with her hair, but didn't manage to as the blonde curls were mostly held in a messy bun that somehow only made her look charming and elegant.

"He doesn't know a fig about Vampires," Mina suddenly stated, signing the bottom of her long sheet of parchment with more force than was necessary before looking up, her light brown eyes flashing behind her emerald-green glasses. "_Voyages with Vampires_ was absolute tosh," she went on, as if the book was written to give her personal offense.

"Well at least there is one other person that isn't taken in by a pretty face," Harley commented in deadpan.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. But Mina's had her heart set on her vampire friend for ages, so she doesn't have eyes for anyone else," Gemma teased, earning a slight glare from Mina who flushed a pale shade of pink which clashed with her dark-auburn hair. In the sunlight, the red-highlights in her reddish brown hair seemed to light-up like ley-lines of fire.

"Vampire friend?" Harley asked slowly before her eyes widened and she looked at Mina. Her mind finally made a connection she had somehow completely forgotten and she wondered as she pieced it all together, if the family was the same in this world.

In her own world, there was a Pureblood family who advocated for Vampire rights, due to their long history with a particular London clan or coven. The Harkers were perhaps not as old as the Malfoys or Notts, nor anywhere near as influential, but they did have money in spades. Unfortunately, they lost rather a lot of social sanding because of their alliance with vampires, who were classified by the ministry as dark creatures barely above inferi or zombies.

Harley was only aware of all this, because Remus followed vampire legislature closely. For some reason, vampires were thrown in the same lot as werewolves despite being completely different curses, and usually whatever law affected one, was likely to affect the other in a similar way. It was never fair and always detrimental.

"The Van Helsing clan has long been tied to my family, since the time of my great grandmother Mina Harker whom I was named for," Mina replied, lifting her chin proudly, as if challenging Harley to say something nasty or prejudiced.

However, Harley didn't say anything. Truthfully, she'd always found the Harker family of interest. Them and Van Helsing had helped to inspire the book Dracula, written by the Muggle Bram Stoker. Of course, Bram Stoker had gotten it all wrong, but it was interesting to see how fact could influence fiction and where the two diverged.

'Well if anyone would know about vampires, it would be a Harker,' Harley thought, knowing that the family dealt very closely and even had periods of living with vampires.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, Lockhart is probably an absolute fraud," Harley responded, though she knew for a fact that Lockhart was a fraud if his magical skill was anything to go by. "Do you really have a vampire friend?" Harley couldn't help asking curiously.

Mina regarded her for a moment, as if wondering whether or not she was worthy of telling before deciding that she was, or that it didn't matter if she knew.

"Cole Barker, or rather Nicholas," Mina replied, a slight flush painting her high cheeks, giving her away. "He's lived in our castle since long before I was born, he's a close friend of the family and very careful about his affliction."

Harley nodded her head, wondering if living with a vampire was easier than living with a werewolf, or if it was just as painful to watch someone you love suffering and treated as if they are less than human.

Vampires were not, after all, anymore monsters than werewolves. It all depended on how the individual dealt with their affliction, and how much they tried to control themselves. She knew that Vampires struggled with their thirst and found it difficult to control, but that did not mean that they did not try. She was aware that there were many that gave up, and lost sight of the importance of preserving human life, or that delighted in the dark impulse to attack a human, but for every one of those, there were just as many that simply wanted to cope.

For whatever reason, Harley suddenly felt sympathy for Mina. It couldn't be easy, to be a Harker.

X

When they exited double Defense, Harley was massaging her temples. Somehow class with Lockhart was even worse than she remembered.

Like in second year, the class had started with a lengthy quiz that was all about Lockhart. Harley had wanted to slam her head into the desk. She was at least glad that the quizzes weren't going to be counted towards a grade, as she answered what little she could recall from her reading five years ago, as she had not been able to bring herself to crack open Lockhart's books a second time in her life.

After the quizzes, which Lockhart had painstakingly gone through, question after question, he then started their lesson. Which actually was a reenactment from his book _Holidays with Hags, _in which Lockhart played himself while asking Derrick Bole to play a Hag- a very dangerous choice on Lockhart's part, given the murderous glint in Derrick Bole's beady eyes and the way he cracked his knuckles as he got to his nearly six-foot height to move towards the front of the class.

The Hufflepuff's who they had class with, at least the girls, were completely enthralled. On the Slytherin half, most of the boys were laughing and commenting on Bole and Lockhart, and wolf-whistling at Henrietta Marks, who was chosen to play the peasant/damsel-in-distress.

The only Slytherin girl that was gazing dreamily at Lockhart was Ilene Dobbs. Amarantha was blushing, but seemed somewhat disenchanted, leading Harley to believe that she was blushing out of embarrassment for Lockhart.

For her part, Calliope quickly lost interest in Lockhart and started to paint her nails.

Like Harley, Mina was disgusted.

"We're never gonna pass our OWLs with that fraud as our Professor," Mina frowned as they made their way down the corridor.

"We'll simply have to learn on our own," Harley replied with a shrug, although she wasn't sure if she was going to bother doing any such thing.

"What do you have next?" Mina asked, rolling her shoulders, as if that would help the strain she felt growing in her neck.

"Divination," Harley replied.

"Me too," Mina replied, suddenly giving Harley the first smile she'd seen. "Finally! I won't be stuck working with Calliope and Ilene!" Harley raised a brow. "We have an uneven number of students in our Divination class, and no one wants a Slytherin third wheel."

"Ah, I see. I suppose it's just too bad I've come two years too late to save you form that horror," Harley teased.

"Four if you count the first two years of school as well, which you _have_ to count," Mina bantered back.

"We can hear you!" Ilene called irritably, turning momentarily to glare at the girls and walking backwards. Both Ilene and Calliope were walking ahead of them. Amarantha took Arithmancy, so she'd headed in another direction, separating from the rest of the Slytherin girls while all the Slytherin boys seemed to be heading out of the castle for Care of Magical Creatures.

"We don't care," Mina replied, fixing Ilene with a look of complete disregard while Harley flipped her off again.

Ilene glared at them before turning with sniff of her nose.

Harley shot Mina an amused look which the girl returned. She had to hand it to Mina, the auburn-haired girl was certainly bold. Harley almost didn't mind, being stuck in fifth year with students two years younger than her.

**TBC...**

**Halloween-** Write about someone pretending to be someone they're not. Or write about people becoming friends in an unlikely fashion.


	11. Big Sister

**A/n: **So here is the update, later than I intended. Since the chapter is short, I'll probably update again tomorrow. However, after tomorrow's update, it will be at least a week before the next, as I still have to complete writing Chapter 13 and I really don't have as much time as usual to write.

As always, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. To your lurkers, come out, come out, wherever you are. ;)

**Prompt:** Gut Feeling (#473)

_**Big Sister**_

_**or**_

_**Quidditch**_

They were in the Library, Mina and Harley, when Gemma walked over to them and told them about the truth about Harry's arrival to Hogwarts. Of course, Harley had heard the rumors all day, but she hadn't really believed them. But when Gemma confirmed them as truth, pointing out that the Whomping Willow had sustained damage when the flying car crashed into it.

What followed was even worse, as Gemma and Mina informed Harley of the events of the previous year and the strange tale of Quirrellmort (as Gemma so quaintly coined it).

What Harley felt then was a fear, wrapped up and almost smothered by anger, the likes of which she had rarely felt before. She didn't know she was even doing it, when she suddenly got up and took off running from the library, no particular destination in mind, but knowing who she was looking for.

Harley was quite sure that the last time she'd felt like this, it was likely towards one of the only three men who'd meant anything towards her. And Harley would have been surprised at how quickly she'd come to care for Harry, if she had room enough for anything but that swirl of fear and anger that raged inside her like a cyclone.

X

Harry was startled when on his way to dinner after the first day of classes, he was suddenly grabbed by the arm and hauled to the side. Turning around, his eyes shot open wide at the sight of Harley.

With everything with Lockhart, and Collin constantly greeting him and snapping pictures of him, Harry had for a while forgotten that Harley... the mysterious girl he so looked forward to seeing since he'd first seen her, was a Slytherin.

Harry was having a hard time wrapping his head around it, and what to make of Harley.

From the moment Harry told Hermione about Harley, during their trip to Diagon Alley, the girl had not stopped pestering him and asking him questions, and saying that it sounded extremely odd and unbelievable. Harry knew that Hermione was only looking out for him, but it made him feel threatened in a way Hermione couldn't possibly understand because she didn't know what it was like not to have family...

But the sight of the snake emblem on Harley's robes, and the silver and green school-tie... they made his stomach twist in knots with doubts.

What if Harley was really lying about who she was, he wondered. What if she had ulterior motives for speaking to him, as Hermione believed.

But... Harry couldn't believe it. That connection he'd initially felt, his instincts... they were all telling him to trust Harley.

But it was so hard, knowing what he did about Slytherins. And the doubt was like a writhing snake in his stomach, which was encouraged by Hermione and now Ron.

And now, Harley was staring at him, with an expression like thunder, splashed across her face. Her eyes, which were so like his, were flashing with anger. But even so, even as she leaned her face down, her face white with fury, her grasp on his arm was not painful, merely firm.

"You FLEW a CAR? And _CRASHED_ into the _WHOMPING WILLOW_? What on earth possessed you to do something so bloody _stupid_ and _dangerous_?!" Harley bellowed angrily. "You could have been hurt! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Harry felt his heart thumping hard in his chest, flinching slightly at Harley's raised voice. It took her a moment, but she let go of his arm and straightened, her face smoothing out. He could still see the anger, but saw her forcing it down. Instead what emerged on her face was a look of terrible disappointment as she stared at him, and Harry felt his heart twist.

Though he wasn't sure what to make of Harley, he didn't want her to look at him like that. Somehow, it was much worse than when Professor McGonagall gave him that look.

"Well?" Harley asked, her tone cold with control.

"The barrier wouldn't let us through. We didn't think-"

"No, you didn't," Harley said cuttingly. "It was completely foolish and unnecessary! You have to think, Harry! You can't just make impulsive decisions like that. You should have waited for the Wesley's. Or sent a letter to Dumbledore!-"

Harley suddenly cut off, looking away from him and taking a deep breath again as she attempted to rein in her anger once more, which had been mounting.

Harry looked down.

"Please, stop and think, Harry- before you put yourself in anymore unnecessarily dangerous situations," Harley replied before turning her sharp green eyes to Ron Weasley. "That goes for you as well, Ronald Weasley! If I hear you're encouraging Harry to pull stupid, dangerous stunts, I will transfigure that empty head of yours into a pumpkin!"

And with that, the older girl marched away.

Harry turned to look at his friends, Ron who looked sickly pale and Hermione who looked thoughtful.

"You know, she's really scary... reminded me of my mum," Ron stated to which Harry couldn't help agreeing, though he'd never been on the end of one of Mrs. Weasley's lectures. Though he imagined that this squirming, sick feeling in his stomach was what it must feel like.

"You know... she sort of seems to treat you like you're her little brother," Hermione commented. And though Harry was still confused about what to make of his supposed relative- a Slytherin- he couldn't help feeling warmth. Though, that faded as he recalled that Harley was angry with him.

What if she no longer wanted anything to do with him?

**TBC...**

**Quidditch-** Write about Oliver Wood. Or write about someone being put in danger unnecessarily.


	12. Flying and Falling

**Prompt:** The Weight of Love (#928)

_**Flying And Falling**_

_**Or**_

_**The Mirror of Erised**_

Harley wasn't sure how she ended up in Snape's office after blowing up at Harry. It was ingrained in her, she supposed. It was her instinct, after six years, to run to Snape when she felt turmoil that she couldn't sort out on her own. Though this wasn't because he tried to make her feel better, although somehow, she usually did. Perhaps because he provided someone to direct her anger at, or because in his cold and cruel manner, managed to somehow soothe her, or help her straighten everything in her mind.

She could feel her body still trembling, her chest tight with the weight of the knowledge she'd received. And she felt afraid.

Like back in her world, Voldemort wasn't truly gone. He was somewhere, biding his time. And Harley was afraid that in the future, he would really be coming after Harry.

"He flew... a fucking bloody car here! Who does that?!" was the first thing out of her mouth after Snape had opened his office door, barging in uninvited and slamming the door behind her with more force than strictly necessary. However, she didn't pay it any mind, nor did she notice or care about Snape's reaction as she started pacing wildly and continued her rant, her body still shaking.

"He says that the barrier closed on them and they couldn't get through, but who fucking decides to fly a car to school? How did that even work? How did they even manage to find Hogwarts when it's unplottable?! And that car could've failed at any point! I mean, why didn't they just fucking send an owl?! How could they not think of that?! What the bloody hell could they have been thinking?" Harley railed, continuing to pace, her voice loud while she gesticulated wildly with her hands.

"I mean, I've done stupid, reckless things in my time- which by the way, my Snape totally has all my sympathies, if he felt an ounce of what I'm feeling right now after all the stupid bloody things I did! But this?! I don't think I've ever done anything quite so..."

Shakily, Harley dropped into the seat before Snape's chair as her anger finally seemed to evaporate with her words, leaving her weak and shaken. Placing her elbows on her knees, she stuck her head in her hands, raking her fingers through her unruly locks and making them all the worse as she clenched her hands in her hair and tried to breathe.

Honestly, was this how _her_ Snape felt whenever she got hit by a bludger? Or whenever she got into a fight or duel with another student over something that really should've simply been ignored?

"Are you quite finished?" Snape asked. Harley didn't bother to respond, expecting that he wasn't quite done with whatever diatribe he was about to deliver. Besides, she didn't think she was done yet. The hard layer of anger, now chipped away, had left behind the icy and slimy fear that was now spreading through her being and leaving her feeling cold and sick all the way down to the marrow of her bones.

"While as your Head of House, I do encourage you to seek me out with certain issues and troubles that cannot be resolved otherwise, that does not make me a counselor or therapist to your undoubtedly large array of problems."

Harley looked up at that and blinked at Snape where he'd reclined against his high-backed chair, regarding her over his knitted hands. A sheaf of parchments on his desk, the open red inkwell and the discarded quill all evidence that he'd been marking essays prior to her entrance.

However, Harley wasn't concerned with that. Instead, she couldn't help blinking owlishly.

"You said that to me before... or rather Snape... from my world... he said those _exact_ words to me, when I was a third year," Harley explained, not certain how to feel about that as she sat back in the chair and released a sigh. Once more, she raked her fingers through her hair. "Things here, I don't understand how certain things can be exactly the same, while other things are completely different, or somewhere in between! I don't know what it means! I don't know what to make of it!"

She was getting worked up again. She could feel the panic gripping her, making her voice higher and anxious and tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

"It shouldn't really matter, should it?" Snape asked, his tone icy, giving her a look that told her that he felt that she was freaking out for no reason.

"The Dark Lord didn't come out of hiding in my first year," Harley blurted, trying to make him understand why the separate realities might be causing her such panic.

Snape froze, his gaze suddenly intent.

"It didn't matter to me at the time, but the summer before my first year, Nicolas Flamel and his wife decided to destroy the Sorcerer's Stone. There was an article about it in the Prophet. If the Dark Lord had any intention to take it, then Dumbledore and the Flamel's acted preemptively and simply destroyed it. They didn't decide to hide it in the castle. And there was no Professor Quirrel. He'd died during some trip the summer before I started Hogwarts."

"I don't think you should operate under the assumption that this world is anything like your own, in terms of events. Whatever happened in your own world, from the time you were a second year on, will likely be very different then whatever it is that Potter is going to experience. Whatever knowledge you have of the coming years, will likely useless. It is impossible for the events of this world to follow the events of yours, when you consider the differences that you know to exist, namely that Potter is the-boy-who-lived and not Longbottom."

Harley looked away, not particularly stung by Snape's icy and unkind tones. She knew that he probably had a point, after all, there had been no "Boy-who-lived" in her world, so much as a "Chosen One". But the fear would not let her go.

"He's after Harry, isn't he?" Harley asked in a quiet voice, clenching her hands in her lap and staring at how white her knuckles turned as she waited for Snape to respond.

"How are you getting along with your dorm mates?' Snape asked, completely changing the subject and unwilling to answer her question.

Harley couldn't help glaring at her hands to be disregarded. She could understand why, she supposed. Snape didn't trust her. He didn't really believe that she came from another reality.

Whether or not he believed in the possibility of other realities existing simultaneously didn't matter, because even if he believed that were possible, it didn't mean he believed it possible to traverse those realities.

So his only options in regards to her, was to believe that she were somehow brain-damaged into believing that she came from another reality, or that she was a very accomplished spy, capable of memory manipulation.

Which meant, Voldemort really was out there somewhere. And if he'd gone after Harry when he was baby, then in this reality, he'd chosen Harry instead of Neville as his equal. He'd be going after Harry, his one obstacle, just as he'd gone after Neville. But Harry didn't have an army of people to protect him.

'But he has me now,' Harley thought fiercely, her fists tightening. 

"Fine," Harley replied through gritted teeth, looking up rather resentfully at Snape. She felt heat coil in her stomach as she tried not to fidget under his intense stare which caused her heart to flutter.

Suddenly, perhaps because he'd made her think of her dorm mates, she remembered the way Calliope Greengrass had flirted with Snape that morning and felt her stomach give a violent twist. The pleasant warmth became boiling heat, and her cheeks flushed red forcing her to avert her eyes.

'He isn't _my_ Snape,' Harley told herself firmly, staring at the jars that were settled on shelves around the office and trying to ignore the discomfort she felt. 'I shouldn't still feel like this,' she thought, trying to regain control of her body.

But she knew that it wasn't that simple. He might not be _her_ Snape, but in appearance they were identical. Their personality too, did not vary, though _her_ Snape wasn't _as_ guarded and even dropped his guard around her when they were alone... or well, as much as he _could_ drop his guard.

Was this Snape bullied and tortured by James and Sirius? Had this Snape made the colossal mistake of becoming as Death Eater in his youth? Did he also give the Dark Lord part of the prophecy, and switch sides when he realized that the Dark Lord intended to target the Potters- her mother?

Was this Snape also so in love with Lily Potter, that he'd devoted his life to protecting her progeny?

Chewing her bottom lip, Harley tried to breathe while her heart and lungs seemed to clench at her thoughts.

All these things had helped shape _her_ Snape. Turned him into the man who'd become her Head of House, and in spite of his history with her parents and guardians... took care of her, protected her. mentored her against even his own desire.

She'd loved _her_ Snape. She didn't know when or how or why- she drove herself insane trying to pinpoint the moment, the cause that she against any good sense had fallen for this dour, unattractive and cruel man-

But Snape had always fascinated her. He was mysterious, and so hard to read and a part of her longed to figure out the puzzle that he was... and every time he showed, however reluctantly and in his prickly way... that he cared about her, she'd felt the nugget of warmth she felt towards him grow larger and larger until it consumed her heart so totally that no other passing fancy or momentary infatuation could take hold of it.

Snape had owned her heart... and he'd broken it.

Death should have been a reprieve from that rejection. It should have brought peace, and taken her from where he could reach.

But instead here she sat, in the office with a man identical to the one she loved in every way... but one that had no history with her...

It was as if _her_ Snape had selective amnesia, where she'd been completely erased from his memories- and that was it's own kind of hell.

Perhaps, this was her punishment. For the love she'd so desired, that love that had weighed on her chest like a boulder that hardly allowed her to breathe... to continue to be dangled before her without any hope of it ever being returned.

Her feelings hadn't simply disappeared for the man. And instinct, or ritual, continued to bring her to his side.

She didn't know if this Snape was shaped by the same events as _her_ Snape. But as far as she could see, no difference existed between the two. She knew that this Snape, was not _her_ Snape. But she didn't think her heart really understood that, because it still reacted to the man, as if he were hers.

Would she ever be free of it- of this aching longing for Snape to see her with want and love?

Did she want to be free of it?

She'd wanted Snape... with everything she was. But she'd started to understand that perhaps... perhaps he would never see her was anything more than a child... a child that he loved, but a child nonetheless. _Lily's _child_._

The thought that, 'That really isn't a problem here' hit her like a freight train, but she was uncertain what to do with it. She didn't think she could take the pain that was sure to come from his rejection. And though her body and heart might react to this Snape as if he were her own, she knew that he wasn't. That _this_ Snape wasn't really her heart's greatest desire.

He wouldn't look at her with recognition for who she was... she didn't reside in his memories from the time she was eleven...

"Are you interested in joining the Quidditch team?" Snape asked, breaking the silence and stirring Harley from her confusing and depressing thoughts.

Turning her gaze from where it had drifted to his hands, which she'd been staring at for who knows how long- felt like hours.

"What?" Harley asked blankly, even as she tried to ignore the hurt swirling inside her.

"I believe you were on the Quidditch team. I was wondering if you would be joining it," Snape replied, his tones completely lacking emotion or even vague interest.

Harley shoved all the thoughts from her mind and tried to focus on the now, not allowing herself to be embarrassed by where her mind had drifted and how long she'd been out of it in her introspection. As it was, she could feel a headache coming on, and her heart still continued to ache in her chest.

"I hadn't really thought about it," Harley replied, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears.

"If you're interested... I suggest you speak to Flint. Quidditch tryouts were dealt with over summer, as I understand it. And Slytherin is having it's first practice on Saturday."

Harley scoffed and crossed her ams at that, glad to have something to focus on, other than her troubling thoughts that involved two Snapes and far too many variables to wrap her mind around. Quidditch had always been good for a distraction, and secretly, she'd always been thrilled about how invested Snape was in it.

"Is Flint still doing that?" Harley asked, unable to help the sneer of frustrated amusement. Flint held tryouts over the summer... it was his way of making sure only Purebloods managed to make it onto the team, and only those Flint approved of to warrant a personal invitation to the exclusive tryouts.

Snape nodded, even as his eyes glinted with unfathomable intent.

"I'm not really sure it's worth the trouble it takes to make it on the team. Especially if Malfoy's bought his way onto the team. You know, I was made reserve Seeker, even though my flying and skills were better than Malfoy's, and all because daddy bought him his spot with all those Nimbus Two Thousand Ones. Not that it mattered, I opted to play Chaser and we kept slaughtering the other House teams anyway. I imagine if I'd been Seeker, they wouldn't have had any chance at all," Harley went on, feeling better the more lost she got on the subject of Quidditch.

"But I'm not really sure I want to fight Montague for my spot on the team all over again. Not sure waging war and all those trips to the Hospital Wing are really worth it, especially if Derrick is going to be backing him."

"How disappointing. And here I thought you had more fight in you," Snape said dryly, his tone of disapproval ringing in his office as he gave her a cold but challenging look.

Harley couldn't help smirking. She knew what Snape was doing. He was trying to bait her into playing the game, or at least proving if she could become an asset to the team.

"Why all the interest in my participation, sir?" Harley asked politely in considering tones.

"Oh, just an experiment. I'm curious- if you are who you claim to be- whether Mr. or _Miss_ Potter would be the superior flyer."

"Well... being a part of the Slytherin team did have it's perks..."

**TBC...**

**The Mirror of Erised-** Write about a character's Heart's Desire. Write a Potter family fic (James, Lily and Harry).


	13. The Growing Gap

**Prompt:** Dirty Tricks (#947)

_**The Growing Gap**_

_**Or**_

_**Nicolas Flamel **_

"I want to try out for the Quidditch team," Harley stated, walking up to Flint in the Slytherin common room where he was lounged on an armchair and in the company of two other seventh year boys and three seventh year girls in front of the fireplace.

Harley didn't pay any mind to the other boys, nor the girls that Flint was friends with and merely stared at the captain of the Quidditch team.

Though tall and very broad-shouldered, and with a face to make a mother weep, Flint was not as stupid as was popularly believed. He was vicious, and perhaps not an academic, but he made up for that in cunning.

Harley hadn't cared very much for Flint being their Captain as he was not merciful, and played to win by any means necessary, often resorting to cheating. For her part, Harley believed in playing fair, which often times put her at odds with the team, who were more often of Flint's persuasion than not.

"Teams all full, perhaps next year," Flint sneered at her, causing the other boys to chuckle and the girls to smirk.

"I thought you'd say that," Harley replied in deadpan, lifting her left hand in which she clenched a rolled sheet of parchment and held it out to Flint.

"What's that?" Flint asked, his brow furrowing and twisting his expression to one of distaste.

'_A note from Professor Snape, but since you can't read I'll just tell you the contents,' _Harley wanted to say, but held her tongue. She needed Flint on her side, she didn't want to have to take him on as well. She knew Flint well enough to know that though he preferred brawn to skill in most cases, that he would also not completely discount someone with as much talent as Harley.

"Professor Snape will be overseeing Saturday's practice, to ensure I am given a fair chance to show my skill," Harley replied coolly, shoving the note closer to Flint's face, forcing the boy to take it.

"Do you have a broom?" Flint almost growled as he snatched the note from her hand, and opened to skim it, his face darkening further when he noticed she was telling the truth.

"No, but Professor Snape also informed me that Mr. Malfoy made a very generous donation of brand new brooms to the _Slytherin team_. So I'll be borrowing one of those brooms during my try-outs," Harley responded. "And keeping said broom for the remainder of the season, if I gain the spot."

"What position?" Flint asked darkly, still staring at the note in his tight fist, as if he was trying to puzzle out what Professor Snape was doing, trying to get this nobody onto the team.

"Chaser," Harley replied, because it was the position she'd most experience with and knowing that Montague would be no match for her. "See you Saturday," Harley smirked as pleasantly as she could before moving briskly away.

X

Saturday came much slower than Harley would have liked, but she supposed that was to be expected after having spent several days on guard, warily watching her back.

On more than one occasion, she'd had to protect herself from what Montague and Derrick thought were subtle attacks. Luckily, Harley was pretty adept at warding off attacks, but it did become rather trying on her patience. Though, it was clearly far more frustrating for Montague whose attempts along with the Slytherin Beater were continuously thwarted.

It didn't particularly help matters that Slytherin House seemed all abuzz over her attendance at Hogwarts, and the brief moment she was seen sharing with Harry in the Entrance Hall. However, Harley didn't have difficulty ignoring the comments made her way, and luckily, Mina wasn't the prying sort.

But by the time Saturday rolled around, Harley was having difficulty wanting to get out of bed. She merely lay there, wondering whether all the effort was worth it before dragging her body out of bed remind herself that Quidditch served various purposes, primarily distracting her from life, helping her body and reflexes keep sharp and putting her in Snape's good graces.

Besides, how could she give up her opportunity to fly?

X

Severus moved to open the door and raised a brow as he stared at the young witch on the other side.

For a second, his eyes swept over her lithe form, taking in the Quidditch gear and the Slytherin uniform. The green robes that flowed around her, giving her more than enough room for movement, but also tight enough across her torso to keep from bunching up and hindering her movements.

Her hair, that unruly mass that at it's longest seemed to graze a few inches past her shoulders and the shortest strands which grazed just beneath her cheekbones, was all tied back in a high ponytail. Bobby pins were strapping down the strands that were too short to be tied.

"Miss Evans?" he asked, his inflection on her given surname imparting the disdain he couldn't help feeling towards the young witch with impossible memories.

Though Severus knew that there was no way that those memories could possibly be falsified, he simply couldn't bring himself to believe in them. Despite evidence to the contrary, it was simply impossible for his mind to wrap around the possibility that travel between alternate realities was possible.

The girl had the nerve to smile up at him, which wasn't wholly strange. After all, his Slytherins did form time to time offer him conspiratorial smirks, or smiled in an attempt to be polite. But they were never sincere or filled with true affection, which seemed to sparkle at him from her upturned lips and sparkling green eyes.

Green eyes which he had to stop himself from contemplating. He was glad that they were so obscured by the darkness of the dungeons and by her black-framed glasses.

"You wrote that you would come to ensure I was given a fair chance," she simply stated expectantly. "I have no intention of heading out to the field, only to be barred by Flint and the rest of the neanderthals and have to come back to the castle for you."

The girl had cheek, and no small degree of courage, he had to give her _that_.

Though the familiarity with which she spoke to him was somewhat disconcerting, making him wonder at the relationship _she_ believed they had, at the same time it was... almost refreshing. He couldn't help being somewhat amused by it, and even intrigued.

It was difficult to curve his curiosity on the subject; to stop himself from rooting through her mind and searching out her delusional memories she had of him. To what could possibly make her refer to him as _hers, _when no one but the Dark Lord had ever claimed ownership of him or wanted to claim him as their own.

The only thing that stopped him, curving his curiosity, was the knowledge that whatever she had in her head, was mere insanity.

"Not willing to fight your own battles?" he asked, even as he stepped out into the hall and shut his office door behind himself. He arched a brow as he continued to regard the unconcerned teen, before flicking his wand at his door to ward it.

"Oh I am, but how can I pass up your delightful company, sir?" she asked in falsely innocent and polite tones, only the barest hint of sarcasm detectable.

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, but merely walked away, not responding. Harley was quick to walk in-step with him, her legs working quicker to keep pace with his own longer legs.

"Have you had breakfast?" Severus found himself asking as they navigated their way through the dark corridors.

Harley merely pulled a stack of toast, neatly wrapped in a napkin from her robe pocket.

Severus cast a quick glance, nodding his head as they continued their fast pace. Beside him, Harley started to eat, even as she started to talk around her toast, asking him questions about the team, namely if certain people were on the team in the positions they held in her memories.

He might have been disgusted by Harley's eating habits, if he were not already used to them. As it was, her habits were not nearly as bad as most Gryffindors, though not in the least dainty and girly as Slytherin girls tended to eat.

Before long, they were making their way onto the Quidditch pitch at which point, Harley had already finished her breakfast.

"Did you know the Gryffindor team would be practicing?" Harley asked as they started to make their way over to the large gather of red and gold cloaks, facing off the green and silver cloaks.

Severus merely cast a glance at Harley, who was looking at him with a far too knowing and a mildly wry expression.

Something inside him wiggled uncomfortably under the disapproving gaze, even as he smirked at her, as if to say _'How could you not expect it of me?'_

After all, was she not a Slytherin? Was she not inured to the dirty tricks they played?

They were still a bit over fifteen feet away when chaos seemed to erupt. Severus could hear the female Gryffindors shriek in indignation. He saw, whom he believed to be Ron Weasley, reaching for his wand.

Before he could make out what was happening, a loud bang rang through the air. Green light erupted from Ron Weasley's wand and the boy found himself thrown backward as his wand apparently backfired.

Beside him, Harley took off running towards the chaos.

X

Harley had been watching warily as the house opposed the Slytherin team, knowing that there was no way that this could end well. Though she couldn't hear what was being exchanged, she wasn't surprised when someone whipped out a wand and shot a spell. When she caught the red-head boy being tossed back, she couldn't help running over.

It was difficult to get through the Gryffindor lot, even as she ignored her laughing House-mates.

Ron was on all fours on the ground, she saw once she'd shoved her way through the mostly useless Gryffindors who seemed outraged that a Slytherin was breaking through their ranks, though they did little more than shout at her.

Beside Ron, Hermione and Harry were trying to help the red-head boy, who seemed to be belching up slugs. Harley couldn't help wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Though in her own world, she'd never been particularly close to Ron, there had been a time when they lived in the same house... when the Order had it's headquarters at Grimmauld and the Weasley's moved into the House for the summer for convenience's sake.

As a result, Harley couldn't help wanting to help.

"What happened?" Harley asked, causing Harry to turn to look at her with wide eyes. He seemed at first shocked to see her standing there, but was stunned when he noticed what she was wearing.

"Ron tried to curse Malfoy," Hermione replied, even as she flicked her gaze over Harley somewhat suspiciously. "We're going to take him to Hagrid."

"Have you tried a _Finite_?" Harley asked, motioning towards the slugs that kept coming up, watching Ron's face turn green.

"Ron's wand is broken, it probably won't work," Hermione replied impatiently, as if insulted by Harley's suggestion, as if she hadn't thought of that herself.

Harley tried to keep herself from glaring at Hermione before looking around for Snape. However, she shook her head, knowing that it was better not to get his input, as she doubted that he'd do anything to make it better. If anything, he'd only make matters worse.

"Do you want help?" Harley asked, turning back around to regard the trio as they started to move.

"No thank you!" Hermione called out, causing Harley's stomach to twist, unable to help feeling both useless and like the wedge between herself and Harry was becoming ever larger.

**TBC...**

**Nicolas Flamel-** Write about finding someone somewhere unexpectedly. Alternatively, write about Nicolas Flamel.


	14. Majestic Legacy

**Prompt:** Majestic Legacy (#922)

_**Majestic Legacy **_

_**Or**_

_**Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback**_

Harley didn't stick around the pitch long after her "try-out", even in spite of getting what she wanted; Flint moved Montague to reserve Chaser.

Instead of heading towards the castle, Harley headed towards Hagrid's hut, wondering whether or not it was a good decision on her part. After all, she really didn't want to push Harry too much, and feeling she'd come off all the more suspicious to Ron and Hermione if she became pushy about creating a relationship with Harry.

But she couldn't help feeling somewhat concerned at the implication that Harry was close to Hagrid.

Harley of course had affection for the half-giant in her own world, but she didn't spend a whole lot of time with him. But she knew Hagrid enough to known he had a penchant towards dangerous creatures. She wasn't certain if she felt comfortable with Harry being allowed around dangerous creatures.

For a moment, as she stood before the door, Harley debated whether or not to knock, though she didn't hear any voices inside.

After a moment of hesitation though, she knocked on the door, figuring there couldn't really be anything to lose.

Immediately, she could hear Fang barking inside. Not long after, the door was thrown open and Hagrid took up the entire doorway.

It seemed no matter how much Harley grew, Hagrid's size would never cease to be impressive.

"Hello Hagrid, I was wondering if Harry was still here," she greeted, trying not to feel uncomfortable and hurt at the suspicious look that marred Hagrid's face. Honestly, she should be getting used to that by now.

Hagrid furrowed his brow as he stared down at her.

"Just missed him," he responded in his gruff voice. "Whatcha lookin' for him for?"

Harley smiled sheepishly, even though she felt her heart aching at Hagrid's regard... it was more than mistrustful of her, it was more than guarded. He was being overprotective, as if he thought she intended to hurt Harry.

"I just wanted to see if Ron was okay; I'm not really sure what happened," Harley responded, taking a few steps back as Hagrid stepped forward. The door slammed shut behind him as he glared down at her.

"Well yer got yer teammate to thank fer that," he responded, his tone miffed. Harley furrowed her brow, thought she'd already known that someone on the Slytherin team, if not the whole of them, was to blame for the altercation.

"Who? What did they say?" Harley asked, following along behind Hagrid as he made to move towards the Forbidden Forrest. She had to jog to keep up with Hagrid's massive steps.

Hagrid didn't say anything for a while, only looking over at her with a somewhat puzzled but still mistrustful expression. He didn't seem able to comprehend the reason that she was still sticking around, unperturbed by his attitude, and seeming to be genuinely concerned about what happened.

Harley wasn't sure either, why she didn't just leave. Perhaps because she hadn't given any thought to Hagrid before. Because of all the people she missed, she hadn't stopped to think of the half-giant who held affection for her, even in spite of her House.

She hated it, really. She couldn't stand, everyone she'd once known before, looking at her with doubt and wariness. She couldn't help, wanting to change that, even if it took time and patience. Even if it meant, they had to get to know her all over again, that she had to earn their trust and start from the very beginning.

"I'm Harley, by the way. Harley Evans," Harley went on, introducing herself in case Hagrid didn't already know, though she doubted he didn't know of her. She had after all, spent her summer at the castle, even if it was mostly in the confines of Snape's private quarters.

"I know who you are," Hagrid responded, some of the anger leaving his voice, though she could still hear a hint of reserve there. His brow furrowed as he continued his trek into the forrest with Harley jogging like a pup at his heels. "Strange, you being related to Professor Snape an' being an Evans..."

Harley paused then for a moment, her brow furrowing, wondering what Hagrid was getting at. Wondering if he too, noticed her resemblance to either James or Harry... that her eyes were exactly like her Lily's and Harry's.

"It's a common surname," Harley responded, moving once more to catch up with the man.

"S'pose that's true."

Harley didn't respond to that, even as she continued to follow Hagrid, careful of where she stepped. It was a few moments before Hagrid looked over at her.

"You really shouldn' be out here, even if you are o' age," Hagrid stated with a frown.

Harley shrugged her shoulders. "But I'm with you, so I know I'm safe."

Hagrid couldn't help grinning at her then, his chest seem to puff up with pride.

"You got that right."

Harley smiled, and they finally came to a stop. Looking around herself, she noticed that they seemed to be in a clearing, noting at that moment that Hagrid was carrying a wrapped up bundle that seemed to be covered in blood.

Momentarily, she felt her stomach twist in uncertainty, wondering just what she was in store for- what kind of creature Hagrid intended to feed.

It wasn't long before she saw herself. She felt herself almost sag in relief, a small smile spreading over her face as one of the winged creatures started to peek their heads around trees, cautiously making their way over.

"Thestrals," Harley exhaled, feeling her eyes fill with tears. She wasn't sure why, but ever since she'd learned what seeing these misunderstood creatures meant, they never ceased to move her in a way that Unicorns never could.

Sure, Unicorns were beautiful and awe-inspiring in their own right. But Thestrals... they were magical and heart-breaking, and even beautiful despite their skeletal appearance.

If Hagrid acknowledge her ability to see the dark-winged creatures, he chose not to comment. Though he did look at her with empathy and compassion.

Steadily, Harley approached one of the creatures, putting out a tentative hand. Slowly, the tall, dark, horse-like creature seemed to regard her hand before leaning it's muzzle into her hand.

Harley smiled, her heart seeming to expand at the simple acceptance. Gently, she ran her hand, fingers trailing over the bony contours and leathery skin, delighting in the strange sensation. She was so caught up, touching the creature before her, admiring it's dark beauty, that she didn't notice the appearance of the rest.

"They seem ter like you," Hagrid stated, his voice not so loud to as disturb the Thestrals, but enough to draw her from her mesmerized state.

Harley looked up slowly, her eyes widening when she realized that all the Thestrals seemed to have congregated around her, completely ignoring Hagrid and his parcel of meat.

She could feel her heart speed up, though she wasn't afraid of these creatures now engulfing her with their presence.

Harley had always been able to see the Thestrals; the first time she'd seen the dark-winged creature, was on her way back to the Hogwarts Express, after her first year. She was intimidated by their appearance at first, and was further disturbed upon discovering that her fellow house-mates were unable to see them.

Remus was the one to explain to her, what the Thestrals were and why she could see them. Harley was relieved, knowing then that she was not losing her mind, even though her heart ached to know why she could see them.

Because her parents were dead. Because she understood at a young age, what that meant.

The knowledge that her parents death had so altered her, that she could see something that her peers could not... it seemed at last, physical evidence of what set her apart from her peers and somehow, that made the gap between herself and her contemporaries all the larger.

But when next she saw the Thestrals... she couldn't help thinking of Remus' words; that they were gentle and loyal creatures, but misunderstood because of their macabre appearance. And just like that, she'd loved them, because she didn't know if anyone else would... because she could somehow identify with them, more than she could with her classmates.

It was the one instance, where she could see eye to eye with Hagrid, on his admiration for creatures that were regarded as dangerous and dark.

But though the Thestrals had always allowed her near to them, and never harmed her in any way, they'd also never before swarmed her like this. And Harley couldn't help wondering why.

Somehow, being amidst the Thestral herd, she couldn't help feeling somehow humbled as she was struck with a sensation, that this was some sort of majestic legacy.

A smile of affection appeared on her face as she felt some of them brush their bony heads against her, and she gently petted each in turn.

"Maybe they think I'm part of the family," Harley joked, though, she couldn't help wondering if perhaps they were drawn to her, because she'd died. She couldn't help thinking that if anyone could sense death, it would have to be these skeletal creatures. And she couldn't think of anyone else so accepting, of someone that should be dead.

**TBC...**

**Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback** - Write about Hagrid's love of dangerous animals. Alternatively, write about Charlie Weasley.

* * *

_** risi**_- Harley's Snape, visiting canon Snape, now that is an interesting prospect I most definitely need to keep in mind. :D And thank you for taking the time to review!

_** sunsethill- **_Thanks so much, as always for reviewing! I know, I know, you're looking forward to Harry and Harley interacting and I promise, it will come. In Chapter 16 if I'm not mistaken, so please bear with me. ;)

Everyone else, please review!


	15. Detention

******Prompt:**** Percipience (#464)**

**__****Detention**

**__****Or **

**__****The Forbidden Forrest**

Darkness had fallen by the time Harley left the Forbidden Forrest. Harley guessed as she trekked by herself across the grounds, having parted company with Hagrid at his hut, that she had just enough time to head to her dorm and change, before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

She was standing just a few feet from the castle's main entrance when a dark figure came storming out of the front doors and down the steps. Harley stopped where she stood as she looked up into the stormy expression of Severus Snape who also stopped when he caught sight of Harley.

Harley felt her stomach sink as he glared at her; she knew that expression on his face very well. It was the look he always wore when he was using his anger to mask concern that he felt somewhere deep down in himself that he refused to acknowledge.

"Where have you been? Practice was over hours ago and Miss Harker says you never came back in," Snape snapped at her, his tone an angry hiss.

"I was in the forrest with the Thestrals, I guess I lost track of time," Harley replied sheepishly, rubbing her neck.

Snape's gaze somehow seemed to darken as his glare became all the harder and seeming lethal in its intensity. Harley bit her lip, knowing that she was going to be really in for it this time, though a part of her couldn't help egging Snape on.

He might be livid, but Harley had hope that perhaps this Snape was staring to grow fond of her too.

No matter that he wasn't _her_ Snape, no matter that this was another world, no matter what _her own_ Snape may have said, she knew that _her_ Snape had been fond of her. And she guessed if _her_ Snape could grow fond of her, that this Snape could too. And she couldn't help wanting to burrow into his heart.

"The forrest is _forbidden_! Or did the name not clue you in?" Snape snapped at her.

Harley chewed on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. _That_ would have been disastrous.

"I was with Hagrid the whole time," Harley replied, her voice indicating just how ridiculous she felt Snape's concern and overreaction were. Though, she did still rather enjoy it. It gave her warm fuzzies to know that Snape was irrationally concerned for her well-being. Though, she tried not to get her hopes up by reading too much into it.

Though, she didn't know why else he would be pissed about it. After all, she wasn't out past curfew and it wasn't as if she was alone. Besides, she was of age, she could more than handle herself. It was hardly her first time in the Forbidden Forrest.

Apart from concern for her well-being, what other reason was there to be so upset about it?

"Be that as it may, you're not allowed into the Forrest without my particular permission, no Slytherin is!" Severus retorted, "That will be three weeks detention!"

Harley felt her jaw drop open, her eyes almost bugging out of her head.

"Three weeks?" Harley asked, barely containing herself from stating how absurdly excessive that was. Such insubordination would only add time to her punishment.

"Let's make it four, for questioning my decision," Snape replied, his voice now turning back to it's smooth and derisive tones, clearly pleased now that Harley was upset by her punishment as he was by her disappearance.

Harley frowned, though she shut her mouth and bit her tongue to keep herself form saying anything more and adding even more time.

"Yes, sir," Harley replied, waiting for Snape to move, indicating that she was dismissed. As she marched away, she couldn't help wondering for the billionth time in her existence why the hell she loved Snape.

X

The following morning at breakfast, Harley was surprised to find that her detention was already set. She couldn't help glaring at the paper, when she noticed that her detention was set after lunch and that she would not be released until dinner.

"What do you think he'll have me do?" Harley asked Mina, who was seated next to her and looking curiously at the paper.

"If he's feeling particularly sadistic, my guess is cleaning cauldrons the muggle way," Mina replied, scrunching up her nose at the thought.

Harley placed her head in her hands and groaned at the thought of her future back ache. Not to mention the condition her hands were sure to be in by the time she was done.

"I still can't believe he gave you four weeks, even if you were in the Forbidden Forrest," Mina stated with a shake of her head.

Harley dropped her head onto the table, having pushed away her breakfast.

"Maybe you can wake me when the month is over."

"I don't think even putting you in a Draught-of-Living-Death coma would help you. He'd just assign your detentions for when you wake up. And he'd probably just add time."

Harley groaned, reaching out a hand and shoving Mina.

"Keep your logic to yourself," she groused, causing the auburn-haired girl to laugh.

X

Harley reported promptly for detention, knowing that to be late was likely only to extend her detentions.

Like Mina predicted, Snape had her scrubbing cauldrons. Having greeter her with his usual acerbic attitude, Snape quickly put her to work. If Harley hadn't known any better, she'd almost say that it was summer again, and Snape was pissed at her for sneaking out of the castle to look for Harry Potter.

By the time she was released, Harley was too tired to even head to dinner. Luckily, Mina was on good terms with the House elves and when Harley woke from her nap, the House elves brought for her a tray full of food.

"I have detention every night after dinner for two hours for the next four weeks, except when I have Quidditch practice," Harley groused as she sat on her bed, legs folded as she ate one of the many sandwiches piled on a plate on a large tray on her bed.

Quidditch practice, for the time being, was only twice during the week and on every third Saturday afternoon. She knew that once the Quidditch season truly got started, with the approach of the first game, practices would become more frequent.

"On Saturday and Sunday too?" Mina asked, arching a sleek brow. Harley shook her head, chewing slowly.

"Just during the week," Harley replied after swallowing, reaching for the goblet filled with pumpkin juice. "I'm hoping as time progresses, his ire will simmer down."

It was what happened in the past with _her_ Snape. Well, not in her first and second year. But after her third year, whenever she was assigned detention, after Snape got over his initial anger, her set detentions would dwindle. Like he might have her cleaning cauldrons or the classroom by hand at the beginning of the week, but as the week progressed he'd have her cutting up ingredients or marking papers; which was light work compared to what Snape was capable of.

"I doubt it, I've never seen Professor Snape soften; he's very good at holding on to anger," Mina replied in skeptical tones.

Harley didn't reply to that, instead allowing herself to hope that this Snape wouldn't take three years to become lenient and even favorably partial toward her.

X

On Monday and Tuesday, Snape still had Harley cleaning cauldrons but finally by Wednesday found herself in the Potions lab, harvesting rats for their tails and spleens. It was disgusting, but after six years of taking potions and often finding herself in detention with Snape, Harley was used to it. In fact, it had become rather mindless work that she could do automatically without much thought.

As it was, Harley spent most of her time worrying about her Harry situation. Already they were halfway through the second week of September, and Harley hadn't made any progress with the Gryffindor second year.

She was worried that whatever gap existed between them, would become impossible to bridge, the more time went on. And Harley couldn't help feeling sorrow at the thought.

It was difficult for her, not to approach Harry. To do absolutely nothing to try to reach out to him. She so desperately wanted to just march over to the boy, and haul him somewhere private to chat, but the boy never seemed to be out of the company of Hermione and Ron, whom she knew weren't doing her any favors.

In fact, she was becoming increasingly concerned that they may be poisoning Harry against her, and had to stop herself thinking such thoughts, by telling her that her Slytherin paranoia was coming out to play.

It seemed a trait of her house, paranoia. All Slytherins were imbued- to varying extents- with a sense that the world was out to get them.

Although, Harley wasn't entirely sure that it really should be called paranoia. After all, the school made it no secret that they were highly suspect of Slytherins, if not down-right disliked them.

Though, Harley supposed too that many of her house-mates didn't do their house any favors as many were surly, arrogant, or cruel.

Shaking her head of these thoughts, Harley tried to get back to the task at hand, wincing when she sliced a sliver of skin of her finger as she cut through a rat tail.

Hissing between her teeth, she dropped the knife and brought her left hand up to inspect her index finger, which was bleeding. Grimacing and trying to ignore the pain of it, she looked around for a rag to staunch the blood.

"For a girl of seventeen, you are quite careless," Snape's surly voice reprimanded, causing Harley to look up and realize that he was standing before her. He sharply extended his right hand, palm up. "Let me see."

He wasn't asking, and for the most part, Harley was used to following Snape's instructions. But for the space of a moment, she hesitated in following the simple directive, even knowing that all he wanted to do was inspect the cut.

A dark brow was arched at her hesitance as she looked up into his eyes.

Harley could feel her heart speed up even as she reached her hand forward, conscious that this was the first time they'd be touching, skin on skin. All the previous times _this_ Snape had grabbed her, which wasn't often as Snape was not a fan of touching or being touched, there had been cloth barring direct contact between their skin.

She tried to keep her breathing under control as she bit into her bottom lip and slipped her own slender hand into his larger and warmer hand.

A spark seemed to ignite at the point of contact, sending electrical surges up Harley's arm and to the rest of her body. She might have gasped in shock, had she not already been biting on her lip in preparation. Though the man before her was not the same man she'd loved for the past six years, she knew she'd love him just as much, and was already attracted to him.

If Snape registered the same shock, he made no indication, though Harley found his intense focus on inspecting her wound to be telling of his discomfort.

He'd felt it too and just like that, Harley felt the strange percipience that her chances in this world were far better than they ever would be, back in her own... and her heart couldn't help stumbling over itself as it picked up it's beat.

**TBC...**

**The Forbidden Forest** - Write about a punishment not fitting the crime. Alternatively, write about centaurs.

_ James Wylie Guerra_- Thank you for taking the time to review, I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

_sunsethill_- Yeah. LOL. I suppose Harley really is being a real mother-hen about Harry. But... I really want someone to care about him, and I think in that sense Harley would have maternal instincts, even though she never had a mother herself. Perhaps especially because she knows what it's like to grow up without a maternal figure. Anyway, thank you as always for reviewing. Harry appears I believe in the next chapter, so there is that to look forward to!

_Reenan Lefey_- Umm... thanks for the feedback. I do appreciate it even though OC s are not your thing. Thank you for taking the time to review and I'm glad at least, that the story is well written.

To everyone else, thank you for all the faves and follows. And if I get five reviews for this chapter, I'll update again this week, instead of waiting until next Sunday to update!


	16. Conspiracy Theory

******A/n: **I guess you guys really wanted another update. So here it is, as promised. :) (Review replies at the end of the chapter.)

******Prompt:** Rain (#504)

**__****Conspiracy Theory**

**__****Or**

**__****Through The Trap Door**

It was the third week since school started, and Harley couldn't take the waiting anymore.

She knew that Harry was not uninterested in forming a relationship with her, as more often than not, she caught his gaze in the Great Hall.

Whenever she caught his gaze, his face was twisted into a confused and sad expression, one filled with longing, and Harley felt her heart break every time she caught it.

Though she'd wanted to give Harry time and let him come to her, so that he would not feel pressured, Harley found that the Gryffindor was taking far longer than she expected. Surely, he must be bursting to ask her the questions she could see written all over his expressive face?

She knew she would have, and she was a Slytherin! She had far more patience than a twelve-year-old Gryffindor!

And so on the third Saturday of September, Harley set out early from breakfast to catch up with Harry and his friends, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible in her muggle clothes, the jeans she'd arrived in this world wearing and her jersey, though that was obscured by the black hoody she'd made Snape purchase for her.

"Harry," Harley called, causing the three seconds years to stop and turn, just as they'd reached the grand staircase. "I was wondering, if you'd like to do something. Together?"

Harley had briefly considered, asking Harry if they could talk. Telling him that she understood his reluctance and even suspicion, but that if he needed her, or wanted someone to talk to, that he could come find her and she would answer his questions and that he would simply have to trust that she meant him no harm. But that would be leaving the ball in his court and the ball had been in his court the whole time, even if Harry hadn't been aware of it, but pointing it out to him was not going to help move things along. She was simply going to have to take charge.

Perhaps if she was the one to put in the effort... well hopefully he would take that positively instead of negatively.

"If you'd like, Ron and Hermione are more than welcome to come too," Harley went on to suggest, though she didn't know how she was supposed to get to know him all that well if his friends were along. But she knew that if anything were to make him feel better or more comfortable, it was being with his friends.

Harry seemed reluctant, though she could see that he really wanted to accept. He turned his friends, looking at them as if asking them what they thought.

Harley too, turned to regard his friends, and saw that Ron didn't look thrilled while Hermione seemed to think about it. She gave a very small nod of her head and slight shrug of her shoulders.

For Harry, that seemed to be enough, though he was still cautious.

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked.

Harley chewed on her lip as she thought where they could go.

Clearly going out anywhere on the grounds was out of the question, seeing as it was raining today. Briefly, Harley contemplated going down to the kitchens, but seeing as they'd all just eaten, and not wanting to be in the way of the elves, she discarded that idea.

Inside the castle, apart from their common rooms, there weren't many places for students to socialize. As their common rooms were completely out of the question, the only place she could think of was the Great Hall or study hall, but both were far too public for them to have any privacy and Harley didn't feel like being gawked at and gossiped about.

The only other place Harley could think of, was the Room of Requirement, if it even existed in this plane of existence. And if it did, how would she explain having found the room in the three weeks she'd been in school? Would they even believe her if she explained she'd just happened to find it by chance one day? And what repercussion could it have, showing three second years the very special but highly secret room?

But short of holing themselves in one of the classrooms, or sneaking out of the school through a hidden corridor (which would look very suspicious to the Gryffindors if she even suggested it), or just settling for a random corridor or even the Great Hall, what choice did she have?

"There is this room I found..."

X

Harry didn't know what to think, when a door started to appear in what had just been solid wall. His eyes widened as the secret door started to make itself clearer, as if it was being created right before their eyes.

He watched in fascination as Harley stepped up towards the door and twisted the handle, before pushing the door open. Harry half-expected the door to be nothing more than an illusion, and was very curious to see what was beyond the door once it opened to reveal what looked to be a warm and inviting room.

Beside him, he could feel both Hermione and Ron, staring with equal surprise and curiosity as the older girl opened the door and stepped in, motioning for them to come in.

"This, I believe, is the Room of Requirement, or the Come and Go Room," Harley stated once they were all inside the room and she'd closed the door.

Harry looked around the room, his breath caught in his chest as he tried to take in everything the room had to offer.

It somewhat reminded him of the Gryffindor common room, though perhaps not quite so much red and gold and lion stamped tapestries.

There was a large fireplace that seemed to dominate one end of the room. Before it was a very comfortable looking couch, a low table and two armchairs on each end. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with books, and there were a couple tables scattered throughout, on one of which he could see a chess set and a set of cards to play exploding snap.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed as he looked up at the high ceiling.

Harry couldn't help echoing the sentiment. As his wide emerald eyes took in his surroundings, he wondered if the wonders of magic would ever cease to surprise him.

"But... no one knows the location of the Room of Requirement, it's just a myth. How did you find it?" Hermione asked, both in awe and with incredulous indignation. As if she was offended that a girl that only been going to Hogwarts for three weeks had found a room that had passed into legend and Harry couldn't help feeling slightly annoyed with Hermione before pushing the unkind feeling down. After all, Hermione was his friend. And she'd done so much for him in the past.

Harry turned to look at Harley who looked uncomfortable.

"Well, I haven't actually just been at the castle for three weeks. I was here the whole summer too," Harley admitted.

"What? Why?" Ron blurted as Harry furrowed his brow, recalling what the Headmaster told him at the end of last term.

"But no one is allowed to stay at the castle during the summer, Dumbledore said so," Harry stated and when Harley turned to look at him with a look that was far too understanding, Harry had to look away and swallow the emotion that had suddenly blossomed in his throat, constricting it.

"Special circumstances," Harley replied, moving towards one of the armchairs and sitting on it, motioning for them to join her.

"Is it because your... parents or guardians passed?" Harry asked, trying to be tactful and keep his friends from being rude.

Harley shot Harry a look with regret and a bit of pain and nodded. Besides Harry on the couch, Ron and Hermione both shifted uncomfortably, as neither of them had ever lost people close to them, much less so many.

"I don't have any other family, so with my guardians gone, I became a ward of Professor Snape-" Harley started to explain, only to be interrupted by Ron and Harry, both blurting out "_Snape_?!"

Harley merely nodded, not bothered by the interruption. "Yes, at least I believe he's in charge of me," Harley said with a shrug and a furrow of her brow. "I suppose he wouldn't want me invading his personal living space, so we remained at the castle. I had quite a lot of time to get acquainted with it, as he wouldn't let me out onto the grounds. Anyway, I found this room one day, but it was a lavatory then. The second time I came across it, it was more or less like this."

"You didn't mention on the train that you stayed at the castle," Hermione said, in almost accusing tones and Harry felt heat course up his neck as his sudden desire to snap at Hermione for being rude, for seeming to continue to drive a wedge when all he wanted was to get to know Harley, who'd only been nice to them thus far, in spite of being a Slytherin.

"Well, I'm a somewhat private person. I didn't feel like sharing much about myself in a compartment full of strangers while being grilled by a twelve-year-old," Harley replied with slight sarcasm, though she didn't seem to be angry and for that Harry was relieved.

Beside him, he could see Hermione turning pink.

"I'm thirteen actually, today," Hermione replied, to which Harley merely arched a brow. Before either witch could say anything more, Harry couldn't help blurting something out.

"Is that why you're in Slytherin? Because you had to spend the summer with Snape?"

Harley laughed at that before shaking her head. "I chose Slytherin."

"Why?" Harry and Ron asked, to which Harley shrugged.

"It seemed like it would be a challenge," Harley replied with a shrug, which only served to confused Harry more.

"But you can't chose," Hermione said with a frown, and Harry couldn't help wondering at that too.

"I think everyone has a some traits from every house, enough that they could be sorted into any of the four houses. I think the house your ultimately placed in, helps bring out those traits its reputed for the most, but it doesn't mean you no longer have those other traits. And I think ultimately, the hat takes what you desire into account," Harley explained, to which Hermione looked thoughtful.

For his part, Harry couldn't wholly disagree with Harley as he thought of his own sorting, or how close he'd come to being placed in Slytherin...

"But why would you want to be in a house filled with bad people?" Harry couldn't help asking; in spite of her house, Harry could tell the more time he spent with Harley that she was a good person. It didn't make sense that she would want to be surrounded by such rotten people.

"I admit, there are a lot unpleasant people in my House. But Slytherin isn't the only house with unpleasant or bad people. And people aren't wholly good, or wholly bad. There is good and bad in everyone," Harley replied, before smiling and shaking her head. "But I think that's enough philosophy for now, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Ron put in, somewhat grumpily. "So are you on the Quidditch team?"

Harley couldn't help smiling at that, and though Harry was still trying to make sense of what Harley said, because how could people be good _and_ bad?- he was curious about the new subject too.

"I'm going to be playing Chaser."

"My dad was a chaser," Harry stated, not sure why he suddenly remembered that. It was one of the only things he knew about his father, and somehow the fact that Harley would be playing the same position, even if it was on another team, made him feel closer to her and his father at the same time.

Not knowing that Harley had always felt that her position also made her feel closer to her father, the girl's sudden beam in his direction, was strange, but still made him feel warm... like he was loved.

"Harry's a really good flyer too! He joined the Quidditch team last year, he's the best Seeker in the school! He even caught a key, spotted it amongst hundreds last year, to unlock this door when we were trying to save the S-" Ron was bragging for Harry, causing Harry to turn red.

"RON!" Hermione stated, elbowing Ron in the ribs.

"Yes," Harley stated slowly, causing all three Gryffindors to look with varying degrees of panic and sheepishness. "I've heard a bit of the events of last June and Quirrelmort thing. How about you tell me about it, I promise everything said in this room, stays in this room, right?"

"Right," Harry and Ron agreed easily, both just glad that they weren't in trouble.

"Right," Hermione agreed, albeit more hesitantly and without any sense of excitement.

X

The truth of the events, surrounding the Sorcerer's Stone, were more incredible than Harley had known and filled her with anxiety that she tried to hide, while bringing up a series of questions she didn't know how to get the answers to, short of going to Dumbledore, whom she was beginning to trust less and less.

Somehow, the obstacles barring a witch and wizard to get to the stone, seemed far too insufficient to Harley. At least if the intent was to bar Voldemort. Especially if three first years could get through them.

Harley had the horrifying suspicion that Dumbledore had meant those obstacles as a test. Which made her wonder, what exactly was Dumbledore up to, in regards to Harry?

As it was, if her suspicions were true and not simply her Slytherin paranoia acting up, Harley wondered if she would have to protect Harry from Dumbledore too. Somehow, that seemed as difficult a task as protecting him from Voldemort. After all, she was just a seventeen year old girl.

But Harley was nothing, if not determined. And at least today, she felt positive that she and Harry could build a relationship with trust (even though she had to lie a little).

For the time being, that would simply have to be her focus. Providing for Harry, what he'd been missing so far.

**TBC...**

**Through The Trap Door** - Write about a character feeling strongly about something. Alternatively, write about any of the obstacles the trio face.

* * *

_L'usine c0m-_ Thank you for the review! :) I'm glad that you've found the story refreshing and not predictable.

_Selyne Nightshade_- Hmm... I hadn't thought of that, and will definitely add that to the story. Though, I don't think Harry and Harley would smell exactly the same, after all they produce different levels of certain hormones, and that probably changes somewhat how someone smells. As for smelling Sirius and Remus from her world on her, I imagine that those scents will have completely vanished by the time they come into the picture. But thanks so much for the suggestion and for taking the time to review. I really love Snape/FemHarry stories too. Shame there aren't many of them. My favorite I've ever come across is 'The Never-ending Road' by _laventadorn_.

_Mu-Nition_- Yeah, I suppose Harley could be a lot more sneakier. But Snape's only influenced her for six years, you got to keep in mind she was raised by two Gryffindors, and they influenced her during her fomative years, which is why she has such strong Gryffindor traits. Harley can be assertive when she needs to be, but she's easy-going for the most part. Thanks so much for reviewing and I'm glad that you're enjoying the story. :)

_mooree-_ Snape/Harley will be developing over time. Harley is still young here, only seventeen and Snape is very difficult. But they're moving along. And there will be more Harry/Harley to look forward to in coming chapters. Thanks for reviewing! :)

_RedEyedSurprise-_ There will definitely be plenty Harry/Harley interaction in future chapters. This chapter is only the beginning. :) Thanks so much for reviewing!

_sunsethill_- I can't see Snape ever taking points from a Slytherin, seeing as that might help to cost their house the cup. Detentions on the other hand, completely different scenario. And yes, there will be plenty of fits between Harley and Snape, seeing as Snape would never make anything easy, and probably a fair share of misunderstandings between Harley and Harry in the future. But that's life, isn't it? Nothing is easy and all relationships have strained moments. Anyways, like always, thanks so much for the review!

To everyone who was looking forward to more Harry. Harley, here is the start of Harry, Ron and Hermione, starting to accept Harley. There is more for them to work through, but all relationships start somewhere.

As always, please take the time to review!


	17. Dual Faced

**Prompt: **Prophesy (#552)

_**Dual Faced**_

_**Or**_

_**The Man With Two Faces**_

Time continued to march on at a steady pace, September slowly and gloomily slipping away, as the rain did not seem to cease.

For her part, Harley was preoccupied with various things, the least of which being back on the Slytherin team and spending time with Adrian Pucey. It was rather awkward to be around the boy who was now three years younger than she was, when back in her own time, Adrian Pucey was three years older, and helped her get rid of her unwanted virginity during the easter holidays of her sixth year.

But for the most part, Harley was too happy with her slowly improving relationship with Harry.

Although the conspiracy theory that sprouted during their first meeting in the Room of Requirement, helped to keep her grounded with a good dose of concern. But it was difficult to sort out the facts, when she knew so little of them. She couldn't take for granted that this world could be identical to her own in all but the gender of the Potter's progeny.

She knew for a fact, based on the Quirrelmort events and what she'd read in History books of the conclusion of the last wizarding war, that the Prophecy _must_ exist in this world too (otherwise, why go after a baby?). And that Voldemort had chosen Harry for his equal, instead of Neville.

But like in her own World, Voldemort didn't seem completely gone from the world. He was out there, somewhere, biding his time. He'd already made one attempt to get a body, but he'd been thwarted by three eleven-year-olds.

But why hadn't Voldemort died back in 1981?

Even back in her own world, the question had plagued her. While Neville had seemed to be getting instruction from the Headmaster on how to destroy Voldemort, she'd never been close enough to Neville to be let in on the secret. She wasn't part of Neville's sacred circle.

But more pressingly, what was Dumbledore up to with Harry? Was she right in believing that the previous year was a test for the-boy-who-lived?

It seemed far too elaborate for that to be true. After all, it would assume a lot about Harry's character. Like that he'd be so curious and capable of gathering all the necessary information.

But then, it _was_ the Sorcerer's Stone. And Nicolas Flamel was famous. So any information on both things, would certainly be easy enough to find. And the fact that the Stone had been hidden in the castle, well one only had to pose the right questions to Hagrid and he'd give it all away.

But if Harley was right, then Dumbledore was what? Training Harry to be a hero? To risk his life to save the world from Voldemort?

Harley had trouble believing it. Even knowing that Dumbledore turned Snape into a Spy, using him as much as Voldemort ever had, Harley had trouble believing that the Headmaster would take a child and try to mold him into some kind of savior, all based on some Prophecy!

After all, Prophecy's were hardly reliable. They weren't set in stone! The future always changed, there was just so much factored into it.

But the evidence, inconclusive as it was, seemed too numerous to be coincidence. And as kindly as Dumbledore portrayed himself to be, Harley knew that that was just what it was. That grandfatherly, doting facade was just that, a facade. Dumbledore didn't become the greatest wizard of the age, the fall of Grindelwald, by not being cunning and astute.

If anyone could manipulate such events, it would definitely be Dumbledore.

What Harley really wondered, was who else was in on it? Was Dumbledore acting alone, or were McGonagall and Snape in on it too?

Who was truly looking out for Harry's best interest?

That was the question Harley wanted answered, most of all.

X

Harley was on her way into detention, when the door of Snape's office opened and a second year girl came out, almost crashing into her.

From a small, very pretty face with a scowl, the second year glared up at her and Harley felt a twinge of feeling twang through her that was neither negative, or positive.

Before her, standing with her proud chin jutted out almost defiantly, stood Tracey Davis.

Once, Harley had considered Tracey the closest thing she had to a friend in Slytherin house. One that taught her the valuable lesson, that you really shouldn't trust anyone. That _friends_ could turn on you, given the right incentive.

Harley was happy that, when Tracey took from Harley what she wanted, that Harley wasn't that attached. Though the dual betrayal had still stung. But Harley was lucky, in that instance at least, that her heart couldn't engage in romantic love very deeply, when it was not Snape.

"You're in my way," Tracey told her coolly, her tone not rude, but also not polite.

Harley didn't say anything in response, merely narrowing her eyes down at the bold little girl, before moving away. Then again, if Tracey had the same background here as she did in her own world, then Harley could understand why Tracey was so fearless. After all, Tracey in her world had been fearless too, having had a rough childhood being brought up in an orphanage. It was no wonder Tracey did not trust, or have qualms with amoral behavior.

For a few moments, Harley merely stood in the open doorway, watching one of the faces of her past walk her by. Though Harley didn't know the Tracey of this world, and would likely not be getting to know her given the difference in years between them, she couldn't help the strange sensation she felt at that moment. Wondering what Tracey's life might be like, without Harley there.

Would Tracey still grow to want Theodore? Would she feel the need to pursue the boy, without Harley there to threaten to take him away? Or would the broken girl lose her chance to heal, by feeling no pressure to pursue her other half?

"Need I remind you, that you have detention? Don't dawdle," and acerbic voice commanded.

Harley moved quickly into the room, shutting the door behind herself.

"Why was Tracey here?" Harley couldn't help asking.

"That's not your concern," Snape replied, rooting through sheafs of parchment on his desk and not looking up.

Harley bit her lip, unable to help the desire to talk while Snape searched his desk for what he was going to task her with. For the past several detentions, he'd moved her to grading papers, and she assumed that today was going to be the same.

"She was very troubled, in my own world. She had a hard childhood, so she became a very guarded girl," Harley spoke, her eyes unfocused as she thought to her past.

"You were friends?" Snape asked, the ruffling of parchments pausing as he looked at her, though Harley's gaze took a moment to focus on him.

"Well, it's not like there was anyone else. Daphne was haughty little princess and Pansy is an atrocious cow. Millicent wasn't so bad, but hardly intellectually stimulating. Tracey was... the best of a bad situation," Harley said with a shrug of her shoulders. "At least she didn't treat me like I was an alien, though things didn't turn out."

"Oh?"

Harley looked up, surprised that Snape was still interested. But then she supposed, he was curious. Perhaps not about everything, as there was a lot he didn't care about, but he told her on more than one occasion that his curiosity was one of his faults. At least, one of the ones that he counted.

Most people would agree that Snape was nothing but faults.

Harley shrugged.

"It's a bit cliché, as far as betrayals between friends go. She took my boyfriend," Harley explained, her tone matter of fact and completely unconcerned. "I was more hurt by the fact that she was my friend and chose to stab me in the back instead of just telling me how she felt; I would have let her have him. It's not like I cared that much about Theodore. He was just... the only boy interested in me and we got on well- hardly a love for all the ages."

"Theodore Nott?" Snape asked, in tones that hinted at his wondering, what she ever saw in _him_.

Once more, Harley shrugged easily, smiling faintly. "He was a gentlemen, and sweet. Sure he was a bit boring, but that makes him a sight better than most the others that might have been interested. Mind you, not that there were many interested."

Severus shook his head, as if he'd heard more than enough drivel for a lifetime. Grabbing a stack of parchments, he deposited them abruptly in front of her, in the space designated for her to work. He grabbed another parchment.

"These are some of the things that you'll be searching for in the essay. There is a text book right there, for you to ensure students haven't blatantly plagiarized. Check for spelling and grammar as well," Harley rolled her eyes but nodded as she sat, having heard these instructions more than enough in her lifetime to know what she was doing without needing further direction.

As she sat down and started to get to work, Harley wondered how to ask Snape whether he was more interested in protecting Harry or in the greater good, but pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

After all, it had the potential of bringing out topics she'd rather avoid for the time being. Mostly that of his feelings for her mother. Or well, Lily Potter nee Evans.

After all, so long as he hadn't confirmed it, she could pretend that in this world, Snape was not in love with the woman that could've been her mother if she belonged in this world.

**TBC...**

**The Man With Two Faces** -Write about a character being two faced. Alternatively, write about Quirrel. (Bonus, Quirrelmort Crack!Fic)

* * *

_sunsethill_- Yeah, Hermione could sometimes rub me the wrong way with her seemingly pathological need to demonstrate to everyone how smart she is. It could be annoying, especially as she seemed to rarely be wrong.

_Hobbyfarmer_- Hmm, I thought for the most part, J. K. Rowling did a pretty good job with Snape. He seemed well-rounded enough, given the limited, third person perspective that usually stuck to Harry. I mean most people don't get to know much about their teachers at all, apart from the one aspect they see in class. I just hope that my Snape seems canon enough, while still showing that there is more to him than his bad attitude, and love for Lily.

_risi_- I think Dumbledore cares about them, but he is also I think, willing to make the decisions that are for the good of all the Wizarding world. Back in her own world, Harley wouldn't have been given anymore attention by Dumbledore then Dumbledore gives to say Neville or Ron in the canon world. And Harley would have been less than concerned about Dumbledore in her own world, though in her later years she might have seen and understood what Dumbledore did to Snape and not liked that very much. Thanks for reviewing. :)

To everyone else, remember to review!


	18. Birthday Memories

**Prompt:** Fragments of Your Heart (# 916)

_**Birthday Memories**_

_**Or **_

_**The Worst Birthday**_

Between Quidditch, detention and school work, Harley didn't have as much as she would like with Harry. But as the weeks started slowly to progress, Harry and Harley slowly developed their relationship, meeting up in the Room of Requirement every Sunday evening to talk, or play games. Sometimes, Harley even helped Harry with his assignments and spell work.

Hermione and Ron often tagged along to these little session, though they usually gave Harry and Harley the space to interact without outside input.

It was during one of these such occasions, midway through October that Harley and Harry somehow found themselves somehow discussing parties and birthdays over a game of chess.

"I never really liked having birthday parties," Harley admitted, as she carelessly moved her queen. The smile that had been on her face only a moment before became stilted as she stared at the checkered board, her mind miles away. Birthday paties had always made Harley feel lonely, even her own. "I always perferred it when it was just me and my godparents.

"I didn't really get my way about it until I was ten."

Sirius liked to party, and only Remus had seen how miserable the parties made her. Even when she was young, Harley didn't want to spoil Sirius fun- he was an auror, and she always felt he deserved to have fun when he could.

"What was your best birthday?" Harry asked, his emerald eyes lit with curiosity.

In response, Harley shrugged. "There are simply too many to pick from."

Though, she could remember her worst. Rememeber the elation she felt on her fifteeth birthday when she saw that Snape had owled her a birthday present. Her confusion on opening the small parcel and finding a vial, containing a memory. Remembered her anxiety, curiosity and trepidation as she poured the memory into the pensieve Sirius kept in the library. Remembered the awe she felt, to see a memory of Snape and her _mother, _to see them as children and realize that they were _friends_.

It was amazing, to see her mother as a child. It was astonishing, to see her alongside Snape, growing together, learning together and even knowing that their friendship had fractured that warm, summer day by the Black Lake, Harley didn't feel anything but a need and thirst so deep to just... _know_, to soak up every part of him that he was willing to allow her to see.

She should've known better.

She should've known _him_.

The memories of youn friendship bled into one of a dark night with a raging storm and had Snape, throwing himself at Dumbledore's feet. All for _her_... for her mother... because Snape _loved_ her.

"_You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you can get what you want?"_ Dumbledore had asked Snape, that night in the memory, voice so full of contempt and disgust, that Harley imagined he might have been channeling Snape himself, while Harley struggled with the knowledge that the man she'd fallen for, the man she could not stop thinking of, had been in love with her mother. Struggled with knowing, that Snape- her impossible love- was willing to sacrifice her father and herself for her mother.

Even telling herself, that she was nothing but an unborn babe who's gender was still unknown, she'd felt queasy at what he was willing to sacrifice, in some kind of hope of keeping her mother alive.

"_Hide them all, then. Keep her- them- safe. Please."_ Snape had croacked; begged even, something Harley never thought she'd see Snape do.

"_And what will you give me in return, Severus?"_ Dumbledore had asked, and Harley might have been astonished if she had not still been taking pains to breathe, knowing Snape had loved her mother so deeply. If she were not trying so desperately, to dislodge the resentment from digging it's claws into her heart. To fight back the shade of bitterness, growing over her heart.

"_In- in return?_" Snape asked, seeming astonished that the Gryffindor savior, would extort a price for his help to protect someone. "_Anything_."

Then, like all the others, the memory had changed, but Harley wasn't sure she wanted to see anymore. But she couldn't stop it... the need to know was still there and Harley needed to see it to the end, even if that meant further mutilation.

"_You're not done," Dumbledore told Snape, who'd been intent on marching out of his office. _

_Snape whirled around, his face twisted in rage, bearing his teeth when he reached the door and found that it would not budge. _

"_Your protection isn't required now, the Dark Lord doesn't care about the Potters now they've had a girl," Snape bit out. _

"_And you think that will stop Lily from fighting this war? Keep her from trying to make the world a better place for her daughter?" Dumbledore had questioned where he stood behind his desk. _

_Harley watched as something flickered over Snape's face. A bitter kind of darkness she was staring to understand, as it continued to blossom inside her heart. _

"_I don't care what kind of world the girl grows in, if she grows at all," Snape had retorted and though Harley knew she was a baby that could mean nothing to Snape then, his callous words still pierced her heart. "I'm not her father, and she is no responsibility of mine."_

"_No... I suppose not. What could you understand of the love of a mother, for her child?" Dumbledore had asked in cool tones. But Snape did not flinch, merely sneered, as if to say that such words had no power over him. "But know, Lily will fight firecely for her daughter's future, with her every breath. It will be just that much harder and more dangerous, without your help."_

_Snape didn't say anything then, for a long time. He seethed before finally, through gritted teeth nodding his head. _

"_For Lily," he seethed, sealing his fate. _

Harley had known Snape was cruel. She'd always known it. And knew that thought he didn't hate her for being James' daughter, and that he even felt fondness towards her (or so she'd thought before the memories), that it did not make her safe from his cruelty.

But she hadn't known, how completely he could change her world. How easily he could place a splinter into her very soul.

It was like demon-glass, that splinter, tainting everything she saw. Everything she thought she knew.

Stumbling away from the memory, she'd collapsed on the carpeted floor, not even able to make it to the nearby sofa or armchair before she fell, the tears already streaming down her cheeks as she wondered what it all meant, why Snape would send her such personal memories. Wondered if Snape had cared for her at all, or if she was simply some duty because he loved her mother so much? Reasoning that he couldn't care about her, if he sent her memories he'd surely know would break her heart.

She'd thought she'd died then.

Harley smiled bitterly, shaking her head- Death was easy and painless in comparison. And it certaintly wouldn't be the last time Snape broke her heart.

It took her many months, to understand why Snape had done that. To understand that he was pushing her away, and why he would do so.

In those months that followed, even as she stayed away from him- unwilling to look or even talk to him, or to show him that he meant anything to her any longer while trying to harbor hate for him to stave off the unending hurt- she'd been unable to stop thinking of him.

It felt like an eternity had passed, before it dawned on her that he was trying to break her infatuation with him by breaking her heart.

But her heart seemed a stubborn and resilient thing, no matter how often she fought it, no matter how often it broke... it always seeemed to return to Snape. She'd truly understood then, that no matter what she or Snape did, her heart belonged to him. Nothing would dissuade it. No matter how fragmented her heart became, it would belong to him.

"What about you?" Harley asked, smiling through the painful memories, looking at Harry, forcing herself to focus on her present.

There was no point, lingering on the past. Her Snape was gone.

"When I got my Hogwarts letter," Harry had admitted in a small voice, almost shyly, ducking his head down while he twitchily moved one of his rooks.

In that moment Harley had known that the truth so quietly and shyly admitted, that Harry couldn't put into words. That no one had ever cared about him enough before, to make him feel special on his birthday.

Harley wasn't sure when she decided, that she was going to celebrate Harry's birthday. That she was going to try, to make him feel special and wouldn't stop trying to make up, for everything Harry was lacking.

**TBC...**

**The Worst Birthday** - Write about a bad birthday present. Alternatively, write about a surprise party.

* * *

_sunsethill_- Yes, letting Harry know of the prophecy would likely greatly change things, but I'm not sure if that's the route I'll take this. Not sure yet. Or if she does, when would be best. As always, thanks for taking the time to review. I enjoy reading your thoughts on the chapters. :)

_Love-Fandon03_- Thank you for the review, glad you'r eenjoying the story! :)

As always, please review!


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